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amywritesthings · 3 months ago

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dating on airplane mode. | part one.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.9k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, dual pov, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics submitted for @levievent 's #levimonth24 / day 22: neighbors

part two. | masterlist

“I'm seeing someone.”

Tea goes flying — metaphorically and physically.

When he confessed a new (and very unexpected) development in his (borderline nonexistent) dating life, Levi hadn’t anticipated Hange Zoe turning directly towards Erwin Smith to unleash a devastating spit-take attack to the face.

It’s a direct hit.

Erwin heroically takes the brunt of the damage, so at least his furniture is spared.

(Levi didn’t need to spend the rest of the afternoon scrubbing down the already scrubbed-down living room.)

Hange’s shout is shrill, the realization hitting them like a full-throttle freight train.

“You’re what?”

“He said he’s seeing someone,” Erwin answers in monotone before Levi can even try.

The tall blonde extends a hand to leisurely grab the napkin cradling the bottom of his tea saucer. In true Erwin fashion, he doesn’t even blink at Hange’s dramatics — or their consequences unto him.

He raises the napkin to blot the side of his face sprinkled with a mixture of freshly-brewed lavender tea and Hange’s saliva.

(Then again, Hange could abruptly bang pots and pans in the middle of the night and Erwin would merely call it a minor inconvenience to his sleep routine.)

“No, no, I heard what he said,” Hange recovers with a crack to their voice, “but I can’t tell if he’s messing with us.”

“I’m not,” Levi flatly states.

“Okay, but how do we know?”

“Hange—”

Except it’s Erwin intercepting once more. “Because he would never pretend to have a significant other when one of his closest friends happens to be you.”

Hange squints, pushing their glasses up the bridge of their nose.

“Why? ‘Cause I joked that I’d stalk him the next time he finally found a date? That was one time, Erwin.”

Erwin rolls his neck to the right, offering Hange a pair of thick, disbelieving eyebrows.

“Technically speaking, Zoe, you threatened to stalk either of us if you caught even a sniff that we could be in the midst of a romantic pursuit. Plus, we’re well aware of the disguise kit collecting dust in the trunk of Moblit’s car.”

An instant shit-eating grin passes across their lips.

“Ha. Fair.”

If Levi’s eyeballs could roll any further into the back of his skull, they’d get stuck.

“However,” Erwin adds, those bold blue eyes flickering back towards Levi, “it doesn’t explain why we were in the dark until now. At the very least, we should hope you would feel safe enough to confide in us about someone you are serious about dating.”

Yeah.

Out of his two friends sitting across from him, Levi figured Erwin would be the most suspicious of the surprise announcement.

Now that it’s been a few days since That Fateful Night, he doesn’t feel as self-conscious to confess his new reality.

It was as good of a time as any to rip the proverbial band-aid off.

(Besides, it was only a matter of mistakes before his friends learned the truth for themselves.)

Hange, Erwin, Moblit — they’re his only remaining connections tying him to this city. The others from his gym days have all found offers in other towns, returned to their old homes—

Moved on.

Meeting Erwin Smith in boot camp changed the trajectory of his life, for better or worse.

Levi had known the man longer than he knew anyone else — but only by a few days and some change, considering he was destined (Hange’s words, not his) to meet the hyper scientist and their subdued partner, Moblit, in the army as well.

Then, as if attached to the hip, all four of them agreed to work at Erwin’s gym.

When that fell through, Erwin found the Scout Services Hotline.

— —

The announcement came to him one summer evening with a printed job description and a six pack of beer.

Levi assumed Erwin’s confession on taking a sex hotline job had been one weird, shitty joke.

Picturing stoic, pragmatic Erwin Smith telling people how to fuck themselves in their bedrooms late at night for the almighty dollar felt obscene.

Hell, it was obscene.

Levi didn’t want to consider his oldest friend in such a compromising position, but there it was laid before him without shame or fear of judgment.

Becoming a part-time sex worker for Erwin was as noncommittal as taking up a fleeting niche interest — like exotic bird watching or crocheting sweaters for fucking cats.

“At the gym, we improved upon people’s lives,” Erwin had told him while sipping his beer, staring out to the city sightline from Levi’s balcony. “Who has the authority to say this job isn’t doing something similar to those who may be lonely?”

“You would make yapping on a damn sex hotline prophetic,” Levi scoffed in return. “Selling some shitty porn script a dozen times a night sounds like the closest you could get to Hell.”

“I disagree,” Erwin argued without heat. “When I interviewed, they stated every employee is given the ability to do as they please. To show their strengths and make it their own.”

“Bullshit.”

“It isn’t.”

Erwin rested the beer bottle on the knee of his trousers.

“Flexible work hours give me the ability to find another place the gym can call home. The pay would certainly cover any initial costs after several years.”

“Several years?”

Levi frowned, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Erwin… c’mon. Just take a second to listen to yourself.”

“I’m only offering a chance for you to do the same. You may not be fond of people, Levi, but you’re loyal to a stubborn fault.”

Erwin gave him a sidelong glance.

“I know you won’t put in applications to go to any other gym.”

“Tch.”

A dismissive sound was all he could muster at the time.

He always hated how Erwin could open the cavity of his chest and put his damn bleeding heart on display.

“Who says I haven’t been window shopping to pass the damn unemployment time?”

“I wish you would,” Erwin replied with a heavy sigh. “Your skills are better when in use, not lying waste with the rest of us.”

“Hange and Moblit’re doing just fine.”

Hange, a self-proclaimed babbler, returned to Paradis University to make headway on some fascinating research projects side by side with Moblit.

It was where they belonged, really.

“Fine, then lying waste with me.”

After a beat, Erwin slid his hand across the space between their chairs and held out a slip of paper.

"Look it over. Really sit down and think about what you did for our fighters and see where I’m coming from. You have a knack for leading. Of making people believe in themselves at their lowest."

He made it a point to stop. Stare.

Levi bit his tongue, meeting his friend's stern gaze.

"Conventional or not, you would still be helping people. Even if it’s a job for a month, at least you’ll be putting a hell of a lot of money in your pocket. It's better than waiting for my signal to move on.”

— —

The bastard was always great at a rousing speech.

That night was the night Levi plugged in the damn website and read the job description.

By morning, he had submitted his application for a part-time hotline employee that included an .mp3 file auditioning his voice.

Erwin must have told his boss that he had a life-long friend possibly interested in the position, because by that night?

Levi Ackerman had a job.

A night turned into a month.

A month turned into six.

Six to a year.

Suddenly denying begging, pleading people from their chased orgasms became as second nature as completing an Excel sheet.

Yet nothing else changed.

Levi still kept to himself.

Considering the friend group worked odd hours — Erwin with his own clientele, Moblit working towards his Masters, and Hange testing the scientific project of the week at the same university when unsupervised — it was easy to.

Wake up. Work out. Eat. Run errands. Clock in for work. Clock out. Eat. Sleep.

Repeat.

Routine.

Hell, a lot of his life worked like a well-oiled machine until you showed up.

Now his world is slightly spinning off-axis, and he knows:

Without talking to his friends about his (uncharacteristically selfish and) impulsive decision, everything could very well go up in flames.

(Because when it comes to sticking matters of the heart and Levi Ackerman in one room, the former never walks out.)

After a pregnant pause in this three-way stand-off, Hange leans in, pressing both hands onto the tops of their thighs.

“So when you say you’re seeing someone, you mean like… romantically?”

“As opposed to what?” Levi flatly asks.

“Well, seeing someone could mean anything, especially for you,” Hange reasons. Levi’s eyes narrow when Erwin gives that short huff of air through his nose like he’s stifling a laugh. “You could be seeing someone about finally fixing your dryer.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m just saying, romantically isn’t the first idea that comes to mind!”

“I have to agree with Zoe,” Erwin finally states, shifting his blue eyes to Levi’s. “You never mentioned that you had met someone in our group chat, and you haven’t made any changes in your schedule that suggest otherwise.”

Levi can’t help but scoff.

“Oh, so now you’re following Hange’s goddamn Google calendar?”

That fucking calendar.

The ‘we’re so busy but we can’t lose touch just because the gym went under’ calendar hastily made at two in the morning and sent with a declaration of war if no one accepted the invite.

All four of them did.

(Then again, Moblit didn’t have much of a choice.)

“I check on occasion,” is Erwin’s short rebuttal, before sitting up straighter. “But the former argument stands: you didn’t tell us that you were dabbling in the dating scene.”

“Wouldn’t really call it dabbling, Erwin,” Levi huffs, picking up his tea cup by clawing the rim of the ceramic. “Shit just kind of happened.”

“Uh-uh,” Hange interrupts. “We’re not playing coy right now, Levi. I want details: name, height—”

“Occupation,” Erwin agrees.

“Where they’re from.”

“If they have siblings.”

“Do they live near here?”

“If they’re allergic to cats.”

An involuntary grimace passes over Levi’s face.

“Ooh! We also need to know if they like tennis,” Hange adds excitedly. “Don’t trust someone who likes tennis, spectator or player. They’re always too put together with an underlying layer of batshit crazy.”

Erwin halts mid-sip of his tea.

“...I like tennis.”

Hange’s thumb and middle finger sharply snap. “Exactly.”

Enough.

Levi hastily pushes his black fringe out of his eyes with his free hand. “I— No, Jesus, can we stop speculating about her?”

“Why?” Erwin challenges.

“Because I told you what you needed to know,” Levi challenges without tripping over his words. “And I’d prefer to keep the rest of myself.”

“Ah, her.”

When he turns his attention to Hange, there’s a wicked glimmer in their eye.

Well, fuck him.

Too much has already been said.

Hange whistles low.

“So how recently was this fair maiden introduced into thy friend’s life?”

“Don’t start talking like a freak, Four Eyes,” he warns them while they suppress a cackle between pressed lips. “And — fuck, fine. If no one is going to let it go—”

“We aren’t.”'

Erwin interrupts, making it two against one.

With a set glare at his blonde friend, the smaller man sinks further into his chair and sighs with reluctant resolve.

“I… met her a few days ago. It...”

Trailing off, he sets his tea cup down to rub at his temples with one hand.

This is going to bring on a headache.

He really doesn’t need it on a work night.

“You’re both going to have an opinion on the how, and trust me, so do I.”

Hange’s face screws up in confusion, but he sees it out of the corner of his eye.

Erwin grows still. Contemplative.

Yeah, he knew this was going to go terribly.

“Huh?” Hange whips their ponytail back and forth to look between both men, smacking themself on the sides of their face. “Why wouldn’t we approve of how? Is it one of the old fighters?”

Levi scoffs, dropping to sit back in his chair. “I’d rather choke.”

“Then I’m not following. You don’t even talk to cashiers at the grocery store.”

“When did she call the hotline?” Erwin asks, cutting straight through the bush instead of beating around it.

His stare is almost indiscernible. Stern.

(Protective.)

The lightbulb clicks. Hange finally settles their attention on him.

“Whoa — wait, she’s a…”

“Former client,” Levi confesses after Hange trails off. “Emphasis on the former part.”

The room grows silent.

Levi doesn’t have the capacity to see Hange’s true reaction, because he’s keeping eye contact with Erwin.

Their own telepathic argument bounces back and forth like that very proverbial tennis ball Hange had so teasingly laid down.

The ethics of it all;

The logistics of what it could mean for the future;

The gravity of this choice and knowing its weight is crushing him.

Erwin’s gaze softens a fraction.

Levi’s shoulders relax, if only a little.

“And how did that opportunity come to pass?” the taller blonde finally asks, but it isn’t as harsh as Levi anticipated.

Hell, it’s curious.

Willing — to not judge; to hear him out.

“Accidentally stumbled into her at the bar down the street,” Levi confesses.

Stumbled is an understatement.

— —

“So then — what does this mean?”

He doesn’t know.

God, he has no fucking clue.

Just like he had no fucking clue you’d be at this bar tonight; that you not only lived in the area, but in the same goddamn building just a few floors south.

You were meant to be a fluke thing.

A moment of weakness.

An anomaly he could solve like every other problem in his life, one he could reason to death and move on from once you realized that this hotline is a slippery slope to financial debt.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t meant to be real.

The calls, the laughter, the exchange of stories felt real, but that’s the selling point.

Imagining idealism.

He could send as many discounted invoices as he could to management to ease the cost of your calls, but there was only so much he could do from his position.

Still—

That being said, he wanted this.

For the first time in a long time, he wanted something.

Ever since Erwin’s gym went under and the staff were forced to find something else in the interim, Levi Ackerman turned off his emotions. His passion.

Money was tight.

Bills were bills.

But there are worse things to do than apply to a remote-working sex hotline with the promise of flexible hours, medical insurance, and the opportunity to get away from people for a while.

Maybe he hadn’t realized he was simply going through the motions of buying a morning tea at the coffee shop down the street.

Maybe he hadn’t noticed that his drive to push himself to the brink of exhaustion at the gym all but disappeared.

Maybe he existed to simply exist.

Then you called.

Petra had pinged him to let him know that there was someone looking for a deep voice — not surprising — with a tendency to overtalk and overthink.

Easy.

Those types always cave the second you call them a pet name or sprinkle a little praise.

Yet you burst into his life like a damn firework to the face and he’s never recovered since.

Being nervous is a staple on these calls. He’s heard every justification in the book just as he’s witnessed people use the hotline like they’re robots.

You wanted to talk.

Petra doesn’t send people to him if they want to talk.

(Did she know, somehow, that he needed this?)

Conspiracies aside, the last two weeks became some of the best of his life.

Now you knew his face, and he knew yours.

And Christ, you were beautiful.

Your voice was one thing — like a soothing balm to his insomnia — but your face nearly took him right the hell out.

Even in the mirror backsplash of the bar, he couldn’t stop staring. Didn’t want to, not when he finally saw what he wanted right in the palm of his hand.

So he was honest.

Honest about his life, his job, his black hole of an existence — maybe to scare you away so you’d choose better than a guy like him.

That he was the first to break the rules.

That he was sorry, because you weren’t looking for more baggage after a shit breakup with a shithead of a guy.

You didn’t care.

So he decided to rip a page out of his goddamn advice book:

Be selfish.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

Autopilot.

Everything is on autopilot when he picks up that damn pen and starts to scribble on a napkin, allowing his nervous system to suckerpunch his logic right out the damn window.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow—”

Bail.

Bail, bail, bail, before you make a damn fool of yourself, Levi Ackerman.

He doesn’t.

He straightens his spine, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand.

The heat of it almost makes his stomach clench.

If he were bolder, then maybe he’d steal you away from your friends. Keep asking questions to make you talk more. Watch as your eyes light up about your favorite things—

He can’t. Won’t.

You’re with your friends. He’s already taken enough time away from them for you.

“—give me a call.”

Maybe he’s chickenshit for running, but at least there’s a part of him brave enough to leave him his personal cell number in the palm of your hand.

Before you can say anything, he drops some money on the counter to pay for both drinks and a tip and leaves to walk home.

To contemplate.

(Assuming you likely won’t call. He wouldn’t blame you.)

The night air leaves a sobering sting on his cheeks as he steps outside.

It’s considerably quieter than the cramped space of the bar, but cabs bustle in the street.

His pocket vibrates not once but twice.

(So not a text.)

Fishing his phone out, Levi squints at the ‘Unknown Caller’ ID staring up at him.

He swipes right to accept said call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

His heart falls out of his ass.

Whipping back around to the tinted windows of the bar, Levi can’t help but look for that now-familiar face.

You’re blocked by an endless sea of conversations and bodies, but he still searches.

“My schedule just opened up,” you tell him from the other side of the line, your voice airy like you hold a secret. “I know it’s a little late for some coffee, but — are you free for some tea now?”

Shit.

Maybe he should be giving the headset for the hotline over to you.

“Depends,” Levi exhales. “Any shop worth a damn is closed at this hour.”

“Shit, you’re right.”

He liked it when you cursed.

Hell, he liked it when you weren’t afraid to be yourself around him the most.

“There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours,” Levi reasons with a shrug he assumes you can’t see; autopilot, “if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.”

— —

“You said that?”

Hange, now at the brink of teetering off of their chair, gawks.

Levi blinks twice, realizing he’s given more of the story than he wanted to.

That they know it’s serious — dead fucking serious for him, actually — and that you’re his neighbor.

Yeah, he didn’t believe it either until you said yes.

“What?” Levi asks. “Something wrong?”

“No, that was just fucking smooth, dude,” Hange whistles low, impressed. “Pop-a-button-and-open-a-window kinda smooth. Holy shit.” They thumb towards Erwin. “You teach him to talk like that!?”

“Self-taught, I’m afraid,” Erwin hums. “Can’t take the credit.”

Hange flops back into their chair unceremoniously. “Jeeeez.”

“Six floors down, then?”

There’s a rare tint of pride in Erwin’s tone, like there’s a joke somewhere in that question he isn’t saying.

Levi immediately narrows his eyes.

“Yeah. She’s been my fuckin’ neighbor all this time, if you can believe that.”

He sure as hell can’t. The fact that you’re six floors away — have been — has kept him up at night.

He could run down there right now and show you off to his friends.

He could leave you home-cooked meals if you’re running behind at your office job.

He could do a lot of things, but—

“Is she requesting you to end your time at Scout Services?” Erwin asks, interrupting his trailing thoughts.

Levi’s stormy eyes meet a contemplative, oceanic stare.

“...no.”

A beat passes.

Despite his trepidation, he explains himself.

“She’s not asking me to quit it. Says she gets it, a job’s a job, but I don’t know how true that’ll be in the long run.”

“And you believe her?”

He knows Erwin’s skepticism isn’t unfounded, but it sets a fire in his belly.

Questioning you, the newfound gravity keeping him grounded on planet earth.

(You're just a stranger to him, too, at the end of the day, but you don't feel like one. Not really.)

“I can’t expect anyone to stay neutral about what the fuck it is we do, Erwin," he reasons diplomatically. "I can say everything on my mind and put it on paper, but I’m sure the doubt will still creep in. Everything’s too new to tell. It won’t be easy, but it…”

He sighs, running his hand once more through his straight-and-narrow black hair.

“I just need you two dumbasses to keep me in check. I can’t—”

Hange frowns, and he hates the sympathetic tone they take when they say his name.

“Levi—”

“Four Eyes,” Levi interrupts stronger yet weaker in resolve, effectively shutting down their protest, “I can’t fuck this up. So don’t let me.”

The air grows thick, like winding vines corrupting the foundation of a tree.

Levi glances between the two of them, nostrils flaring with unspoken difficulty.

Erwin is the first to nod. Wordlessly, but he does.

Hange sighs with conclusion not a second after and nods, too.

“Am I at least allowed to ask one thing?” they chirp, holding out one slender finger to the sky. “Just one teeny, tiny thing — yes or no.”

A part of him really wants to say no.

A part of him really wants to say this conversation is over before he gives them anymore concrete information about you as he navigates these uncharted waters of being a not-so-normal boyfriend to a very-normal-ass person.

He fights.

Fails.

“...fine,” he grumbles. “The fuck’s the question?”

Hange perks up, all too smug.

“Did the pop-up shop six floors up line work?”

The memory blossoms in the back of his skull.

His body warms as if trapped under an electric blanket, heat setting cranked a little too high.

Instinctively his eyes flicker to the front door of his apartment.

Like you’ll burst in at any moment with your work bags and stress and the hope that he’ll have the same soothing balm you’ve gifted him, hands at the ready to fix your problems for you.

He hasn’t wanted much.

He’s never wanted much, but—

Shit, if he doesn’t want to be good to you.

“...something like that.”

Author's Note:

AHHHH HI EVERYONE! WE'RE AT IT AGAIN WITH MODERN!LEVI SHENANIGANS! How are we feeling to be back?

I seriously cannot believe we're here. I've never done a sequel before, but the demand was overwhelming and I couldn't help but agree: we could do with learning what happens after the final call.

And we will, in this seven (maybe more?) part series. I had to actually break up part one because it got way too large of a chapter, so I promise we'll be picking up right where we left off in P4 -- like, quite literally That Fateful Night in part two.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #aot x reader #snk x reader #levimonth24

638 notes · View notes

moonselune · 5 months ago

Note

Mayhaps, if you'd like to do one with all the companions, (if not just the ladies are fine^^):

Comforting Tav over something seemingly insignificant, a small inconvenience (dropped food, easy to repair broken item, a shop not having the one thing they're looking for, ECT), but it's just the thing that broke the camel's back, and all the stress and worry and hardship catches up to Tav

this one took a while to do but I hope its okay ! Added Rolan to it but not Raphael as I genuinely think he would simply just magic you away because he would just not want to deal with that - not very order and decorum of you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

You and Karlach had been on the road for weeks, dealing with countless threats and challenges. Today, you had looked forward to a simple pleasure: a meal cooked over the campfire, a small respite from the chaos. But as you carried the pot of stew to the table, you tripped over a root and spilled it all over the ground.

Karlach saw the accident and rushed over, her eyes wide with concern.

"Easy soldier, you got mouths here, to feed not the ants," she said, trying to sound upbeat but she noticed you were very much not sharing the same vibe as her. "Hey, it's okay! We can make more,"

But something inside you snapped. The spilled stew was the final straw. You dropped to your knees, staring at the mess, and felt tears welling up in your eyes. All the stress, the exhaustion, and the constant battle against the odds suddenly came crashing down on you. Karlach immediately knelt beside you, her large, warm hand on your shoulder. "Hey, hey, it's alright. It's just stew. We'll figure it out," she said softly.

You shook your head, unable to hold back the sobs. "It's not just the stew, Karlach. It's everything. I'm so tired. I'm so stressed. I can't keep doing this."

Karlach's eyes widened in panic. She wasn't used to seeing you like this. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Shh, ssh, it's okay. Let it out," she whispered, stroking your back awkwardly but tenderly. "Shhh,"

You clung to her, the warmth of her embrace grounding you as you let the tears flow. Karlach continued to hold you, her voice a soothing murmur in your ear.

"We're in this together, okay? You don't have to carry it all by yourself. I'm here. We'll get through this."

Her words, combined with her reassuring hold on you, slowly began to calm you down. As your sobs subsided, you leaned back and looked at her, seeing the worry and care in her eyes.

"I'm do sorry," you mumbled, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to break down like that. I-"

"-Don't apologize. You're allowed to feel overwhelmed." Karlach shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're allowed to need a break. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a little lighter, and Karlach pressed a kiss to your forehead. The two of you sat there for a little while longer, basking in each other's warmth and slowly you began to feel all of those broken pieces start to mend together.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You were in a bustling market, searching for a specific ingredient for a potion. After hours of looking and dealing with the noise and chaos, you finally found the stall that supposedly had it. But as you reached the front, the vendor shook his head. "Sorry, sold out."

That was it. The final straw. You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. "What do you mean sold out, we need that-"

Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. You tried to hold them back, embarrassed by your reaction, hiding your head in your hands, hoping nobody would notice but it was too late. Minthara, who had been silently watching your back, noticed your distress immediately. She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing at the vendor before turning to you. You were now shaking, unable to move, stuck in a cycle of crying, trying not to show yourself crying and crying more. Minthara put a hand on your shoulder, glaring at the vendor before you both.

"Excuse us," she said coldly to the vendor. Without another word, she scooped you up effortlessly and slung you over her shoulder. You were too overwhelmed to protest, your emotions a tangled mess. She carried you to a quieter, more secluded alley away from the bustling crowd. Once there, she set you down gently and knelt before you, her eyes searching yours.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice demanding but surprisingly soft.

You tried to speak, but the words came out in a choked sob. "It's… it's just too much. Everything is going wrong. I'm so tired, Minthara. I can't keep doing this."

Minthara's expression softened, and she reached out, gently cupping your face in her hands.

"You are strong, but even the strongest need a moment to breathe," she said, her voice steady and calm. "You don't have to carry this burden alone."

You leaned into her touch, feeling a mixture of shame and relief. "I'm sorry. It's such a small thing to get upset over. It's shameful."

"It is not." `Minthara shook her head and as you tried to bow your head, trying to hide from her gaze, but Minthara was relentless, jerking your head up and back to her. " And it's not just the small thing. It's everything that led up to it. You are allowed to feel overwhelmed."

She pulled you into an embrace, her strong arms holding you close. "Rest here for a moment. Take your time," she murmured. "We'll face this together."

Her words and presence brought a sense of calm over you. You clung to her, letting the tears flow as she held you. In that moment, you felt safe and understood. Minthara's quiet strength and unwavering support were exactly what you needed.

After a while, you pulled back, feeling a bit more composed. Minthara looked at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Feeling better?"

You smiled, wiping your eyes. "Yes. Thank you, Minthara."

"Good. Though my only request is that next time you share your worries with me." You nodded and she stood up, offering you her hand. Now, let's find another way to get what we need. We won't let this defeat us."

"Minthara?" You call out to her quietly and she looks at you, her eyes wide, waiting on your every word.

"Yes, my love?"

You didn't answer her, just leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, pulling away with a smile. "I love you, entirely."

"I love you too."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The day had been a long string of battles and challenges, leaving you exhausted. When you finally made it back to camp, you realised your weapons had grown dull. Pulling out your dagger you began to sharpen it, but either from the strength of your frustration that had built over the past few days, or the excessive use of it, it snapped.

You stared at the mess, the broken pieces of dagger on the floor, glinting back at you almost mockingly in the evening sun. You felt the weight of all your stress and fatigue crash down on you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you dropped to your knees.

Lae'zel, who had been sharpening her own blade nearby, looked up at the sound of the dagger breaking. She saw you kneeling by the broken pieces, tears streaming down your face. With a determined stride, she approached you and knelt down beside you.

"This is but a minor setback, a weak dagger clearly" she said firmly, her voice calm and pragmatic. "I have many, have one of mine. The battle is not lost."

You shook your head, unable to hold back the sobs. "It's not just the dagger, Lae'zel. It's everything. I'm so tired. I can't keep doing this."

Lae'zel's eyes softened slightly, and she placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm and reassuring. "You are stronger than this, and we will face these challenges together. Allow yourself a moment of weakness, but do not let it consume you."

For once her practical approach, and slight criticism, began to ground you. You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

"We will rise above this," she continued, her voice steady as she awkwardly pat you on the shoulder. "Together, we will face whatever comes our way. You are not alone in this, I am here, place your burdens upon me."

''I don't want to do that though-'

"-Do you not think me strong enough? You think your burdens above me?" Lae'zel asked in slight outrage and you couldn't help but laugh at her sincerity.

"No, of course not, my love." You smiled as you rested your head on your shoulder, feeling a bit more in control. She helped you to your feet, her grip never faltering.

"We will clean this up and get you a new blade, one worthy of your strength" she said, her tone decisive. "And we will succeed."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The branch whacks you across the face, a stinging reminder of the day's endless frustrations. It's the final straw. Rage bubbles up, hot and uncontrollable. You raise your hand, the words of a fireball spell forming on your lips. This stupid, unyielding piece of nature is about to feel your wrath.

"Stop!" Shadowheart's voice cuts through your fury, sharp and commanding.

You freeze, your breath coming in ragged gasps. She steps between you and the offending tree, her dark eyes filled with concern. She places a hand on your arm, gently but firmly.

"Calm down," she says, her voice softer now, soothing and she raises her brows at you. "Starting a forest fire isn't going to help us on our travels and it's just going to annoy the two druids."

The fireball dissipates in your hand, and the anger that fueled it ebbs away, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. The tears come then, hot and bitter. You collapse to your knees, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Shadowheart kneels beside you, her arms encircling you, holding you close.

"It's alright," she whispers, her voice a balm to your wounded soul. "I'm here."

You sob into her shoulder, the days of pent-up frustration and exhaustion pouring out in a torrent. She holds you tight, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"I'm so tired," you manage to say between sobs. "So tired of everything."

"I know," she says, her hand gently rubbing your back. "I know. But attacking nature won't help. You can always come to me. Let me share your burden."

Her words are like a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink. You cling to her, the warmth of her body grounding you. Slowly, your sobs subside, and you lift your head to look at her. Her face is filled with such tender concern that it makes your heart ache.

"Thank you," you say, your voice hoarse but sincere.

She smiles, a small, gentle curve of her lips. "Anytime, my love."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira

The past few days had been a relentless series of challenges, and your nerves were already frayed when you entered a small shop in Baldur's Gate. You were searching for a particular herb that Jaheira needed for her potions, a task that should have been simple. When the shopkeeper informed you that they were out of stock, it felt like the final straw. Your composure shattered, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

You tried to hold them back, but the weight of stress, exhaustion, and frustration was too much. You turned away from the shopkeeper, not wanting to make a scene, but the tears started to fall. Jaheira, who had been examining a display of potions nearby, noticed your distress immediately. She approached you with a quiet urgency, her eyes filled with concern.

"What's wrong, my heart?" she asked gently, her voice steady and soothing. You shook your head, unable to speak as the tears continued to flow.

"I… I can't do this anymore," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. "Everything's just… too much."

Without another word, Jaheira wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a firm, comforting embrace. She didn't offer empty platitudes or try to tell you that everything would be fine. Instead, she simply held you, letting you cry against her shoulder. Her presence was solid and reassuring, a rock in the storm of your emotions.

"It's okay to let it out," she murmured, her hand gently stroking your hair. "You've been carrying a heavy burden. Let me share it with you."

You clung to her, feeling the warmth of her body and the strength of her support. Gradually, the tension in your muscles began to ease, and your sobs turned into quiet sniffles. Jaheira continued to hold you, her calm and steady presence providing a safe space for you to release your pent-up emotions.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude. "I needed that."

Jaheira pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and wiping away your tears with her thumbs. "We all have moments like this," she said softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll get through this together."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The day had been a whirlwind of tasks and responsibilities, leaving you mentally and physically drained. When you finally returned to camp, you decided to prepare a simple meal for everyone. However, as you were carrying the pot of stew to the fire, you tripped over a loose stone and spilled the entire pot onto the ground. It was a small accident, but it was enough to push you over the edge.

You stood there, staring at the ruined meal, feeling a surge of frustration and despair. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you began to shake, overwhelmed by the stress and exhaustion that had been building up for days.

Gale, who had been organizing his spell components nearby, noticed your distress immediately. He rushed over, concern etched on his face.

"Hey, what's wrong, my beloved?" he asked gently, his voice filled with worry.

"It's just… everything," you said, your voice breaking as tears started to fall as you gestured to everything around you. "I can't handle it anymore. I'm so tired, and now this…"

Gale's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "Come here," he said softly, guiding you to a nearby log to sit down. He knelt in front of you, still holding your hand, and looked into your eyes with a calm and steady gaze.

"Let's do some breathing exercises," he suggested. "It might help you feel a bit better. Just follow my lead."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Gale began to breathe slowly and deeply, and you mimicked his actions. Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale. The rhythmic pattern of his breathing, combined with his presence, his love, it started to soothe your frayed nerves.

"Focus on your breath," Gale said gently. "Let the tension flow out with each exhale."

As you continued to breathe with him, you felt your body gradually begin to relax. The tears slowed, and the tight knot of anxiety in your chest started to loosen. Gale's hand remained steady in yours, a grounding force that helped you find your center.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but calmer than before. "I love you."

"I love you too," Gale smiled, a warm and understanding expression on his face. "We all have moments when things become too much. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. But please, my love, do not suffer alone. It breaks my heart to see you shed tears like this."

"I'm sorry I-"

"-I do not need you to apologise," Gale whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I just need you, no matter how you feel, okay?"

"Okay" You weakly smile and bury your head into his shoulder, your tears staining his robes but he couldn't care. He just held you and slowly everything seemed to be alright.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The day had been long and grueling, filled with minor inconveniences and stressful encounters that had worn down your patience. You found yourself in the middle of camp, trying to prepare a simple meal. As you were chopping vegetables, your knife slipped, and the entire bowl of carefully prepared ingredients tipped over, spilling onto the ground.

It was a minor accident, but it was the final straw. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a wave of frustration and hopelessness wash over you. Your hands trembled as you stared at the mess on the ground, unable to hold back the sobs that were threatening to escape.

Astarion, who had been lounging nearby, noticed your distress immediately. He stood up and approached you, his eyes narrowing in concern. "What's wrong with you now?" he asked, his voice a mix of irritation and worry.

"I can't… I just can't do this anymore," you choked out between sobs. "Everything's going wrong, and I can't handle it."

Astarion's expression softened, but his way of comforting was unorthodox. He got you to your feet and held you by your shoulders and looked at you straight on.

"Get it together!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with urgency. He had never seen you like this and he was panicking as it was stirring unexpected emotions in him."If you keep crying like this, I might start crying too, and that would be a disaster, because I am not a pretty crier!"

Despite his harsh words, there was a hint of genuine concern in his eyes. You couldn't help but let out a weak laugh through your tears. His attempt at tough love was oddly endearing.

"Look, darling" Astarion said a bit less panicked now, "Life is a series of unfortunate events, especially for us. But you can't let every little thing break you. You're stronger than this."

He reached out and gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "And if you need to cry, fine. But don't think for a second that you're alone in this. We've all had our moments of weakness, even I - though it may be hard to believe"

You giggle and sniffled, wiping your tears away. Astarion's seemingly tough exterior was still present, but there was a warmth in his eyes that reassured you. "Thanks, my love."

He stood up and offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. "Now, let's clean this up and make something edible. And try not to spill anything this time, alright?"

His playful tone lightened the mood, and you couldn't help but smile. He pulled you into a quick embrace and gave you a reassuring squeeze and kiss on the head before sending you on your way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. The constant stress and pressure had been building up, and when you finally returned to camp, you just wanted a moment of peace. As you unpacked your belongings, a small, cherished trinket slipped from your hands and shattered on the ground.

It was a minor inconvenience, but it was the last straw. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a wave of despair wash over you. Your vision blurred as you tried to gather the broken pieces, your hands shaking uncontrollably.

Wyll, who had been tending to the campfire, noticed your distress immediately. He stood up and walked over to you, his expression filled with concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you.

"I can't… I just can't do this anymore," you choked out, your voice trembling. "Everything's going wrong, and I can't handle it."

Wyll's heart ached at the sight of your tears. He reached out and gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Shh, it's alright," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You're not alone. I'm here."

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you cried against his shoulder. His strong arms wrapped around you, providing a sense of safety and comfort that you desperately needed. He didn't say anything for a while, simply letting you release your pent-up emotions.

After a few moments, Wyll pulled back slightly and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. "Sometimes, it's the small things that push us over the edge," he said softly. "But you don't have to carry this burden alone. Let me help you."

His words and his unwavering support helped you find your footing again. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "Thank you, Wyll," you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude.

Wyll smiled warmly, his eyes filled with compassion. "Always," he replied. "Now, let's see if we can fix this, shall we?"

Together, you carefully gathered the broken pieces of your trinket. With Wyll's help, you managed to repair it, and the simple act of working together helped you regain your composure.

"See? Good as new!" Wyll smiled as he presented it to you, you took it with a small smile, nodding your head in thanks as you held it to you chest, the trinket becoming even more cherished now.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The potion fizzles and pops, releasing a pungent, acrid smoke. Your heart sinks as the mixture turns an unnatural shade of green, clearly ruined. It's a small thing, a simple potion gone wrong, but after days of pent-up frustration and exhaustion, it's the final straw. Your shoulders slump, and the tears you've been holding back for days finally spill over.

You drop the vial, not caring as it shatters on the floor. Halsin, who has been quietly reading in the corner, looks up, concern etching deep lines into his kind face. He rises and crosses the room in a few swift strides, his presence warm and comforting.

"Hey," he says softly, wrapping his strong arms around you. "It's okay. It's just a potion."

But it's not just a potion. It's everything. The endless challenges, the constant sense of impending doom, the weight of the world pressing down on you. You bury your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He holds you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair.

"It's alright," he murmurs. "Let it out. I'm here."

You feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and slowly, the storm inside you begins to calm. You pull back slightly to look at him, and to your surprise, you see tears glistening in his eyes. His lips tremble as he tries to hold them back, but he fails. He begins to cry, his tears mingling with yours.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice breaking. "I just hate seeing you like this."

The sight of Halsin, this strong, stoic druid, crying because you are crying, tugs at something deep inside you. A laugh bubbles up, surprising you. It's absurd and adorable, and somehow it breaks through the lingering sadness.

"You big softie," you say, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

He laughs too, a shaky, relieved sound, and pulls you into another hug. "I can't help it," he says. "I love you too much to see you in pain."

You cling to him, finding comfort in his warmth and his tears. The moment, though born from frustration and exhaustion, becomes tender and you can breathe easier now. Halsin kissed the top of your head and the two of you stay there for a while, basking in each other's presence.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

The day had been a series of small misfortunes, and the final blow came when you discovered that the shop you had been counting on didn't have the one item you desperately needed. It seemed like such a trivial thing, but in that moment, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing down on you. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt the overwhelming urge to scream in frustration.

Rolan, who had been browsing a nearby shelf, noticed your distress. His usual confident demeanor faltered as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, a sob escaped, and you quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed by your outburst. Rolan's eyes widened, clearly panicked. He wasn't used to dealing with such emotional meltdowns. Bickering nd arguing he could deal with, this he was a lot less prepared for.

"Uh, okay, let's… let's figure this out," he stammered, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder.

The small gesture was enough to break the dam. You began to cry in earnest, the stress and worry of the past days pouring out in a torrent of tears. Rolan looked around, unsure of what to do, but his concern for you was evident.

"Hey, it's okay, beloved" he said, trying to sound reassuring despite his own uncertainty. "We'll figure this out. Just… let it out."

His awkward but sincere attempt to comfort you made you feel a bit better. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. "I'm sorry," you managed to say between sobs. "It's just been so much, and this… this was the last straw."

Rolan's expression softened, and he squeezed your shoulder gently. "No need to apologize, dearest. We all have those days," he said, his voice a bit steadier now. "How about we take a break and sit down for a bit? We can figure things out from there."

He led you to a quieter corner of the shop, and you both sat down. Rolan fumbled for a moment before pulling out a handkerchief and offering it to you. "Here, use this," he said, his tone gentle.

You took the handkerchief and wiped your tears, feeling a bit more composed. "Thank you, Rolan. I just… I couldn't hold it in anymore."

Rolan nodded, his expression understanding. "It's okay. Sometimes, we just need to let it out. And I'm here for you, even if I'm not the best at this."

You couldn't help but smile at his honesty. "You're doing just fine," you said, grateful for his support.

Rolan relaxed a bit, relieved that he was able to help in some way. "Alright, then. Let's take a few more minutes, and when you're ready, we'll go find that item together."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you all enjoyed it! - Seluney xoxo

469 notes · View notes

loonmartell · 7 months ago

Text

𓄹𓄼 Rainy day brew 𓄼𓄹

(No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary : Can a stormy night and well brewed coffee bring two hearts together?

Rating : Explicit/+18 (Smut! MDNI)

Word count : 6,336 (I got carried away sorry..)

Warnings/tags : No outbreak AU, forced proximity cuz rain, pining, Alternating POV, pet names, one “yes, ma’am” because I couldn’t help it, a sprinkle of plot, lil fluff & banter, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, fingering, dirty talk, grinding, kissing, teasing, One (1) playful ass slap, creampie), storms (rain, thunder & lightning), A LOT of yapping about pour over coffee, no use of y/n.

A/N : Hello again! Today I come with Joel smut 🙏🏻. I wrote this for @undercoverpena ‘s April Showers Challenge! I absolutely fell in love with the idea when i saw it, cuz if there’s one thing about me it’s that I LOVE rain! So ofc i had to try and do it <3 A big huge colossal thank you to @joels-darlin for being my lovely beta <33 and @coispunk for not blocking me after i bounced off the walls contemplating if i should upload this or not ✨✨✨

Masterlist

——

“You need a ride home darlin’?”

You turn to the source of the voice and find Joel talking to you through the rolled down window of his pick up truck.

“Oh! no it’s okay I can wait for the rain to—”

“Non ‘a that now, This storm could last ‘til tomorrow night” he leans over the passenger seat to open the door for you.

It’s not that you wouldn’t appreciate the ride —you most certainly would— but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience and you especially didn’t want Joel to think that you were aburden.

You didn’t know each other very well. Your best friend Maria is dating his brother Tommy. And you’ve been dragged to a couple of dinners and drinks over the last couple of months with the three of them. But the conversations were always guided by the other two, so you and Joel never really spoke much. In fact, you had the fleeting idea that maybe Joel didn’t like you. He’s always so tense around you, you know this because you literally saw his jaw tensing after you showed up. And you caught him glaring at you a couple of times. You thought you may have unknowingly offended him somehow, but Maria assured you afterwards that you didn't say or do anything wrong and that he was probably just tired. So you let it go, but the idea is still floating around in your head.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out for drinks, Maria and Tommy headed home early and left you with Joel half an hour ago. And not long after that Joel excused himself saying he had an early morning and said his goodbyes.

You waited a couple of minutes before you got out as well. Only, much to your delight; a storm was brewing and it was raining by the time you were ready to walk home. What an incredible choice you made to walk instead of drive on this day.

When Joel was one street away from where he left you at the bar. He thought back on when you mentioned leaving your car at home because you thought it was nice weather for a stroll. He tried really hard to get the idea of you walking home in this storm out of his head. You can manage. Get an uber, call a cab, whatever. But then again, Joel's southern manners would never allow him. That, and this big, colossal crush he has on you.

The first time he ever saw you was when he picked up Tommy from Maria’s (and your) apartment one morning. Tommy left him waiting long enough for you to get out and go to work (he assumed). You really had him in a chokehold. You were really, breathtakingly beautiful. You had your hair in a high ponytail with a few strands deliberately out, framing the gorgeous features of your face. You had both your hands full. One had a large handbag hanging from your wrist, hand holding a travel mug and a coat hanging on your forearm. The other hand was holding a bright red watering can. You started watering the flower beds on the windowsills and the big pot of gardenias right by the door. Your next door neighbour, an old lady, got out at that time. And Joel saw your cheery smile for the first time, and what he assumed were good mornings were exchanged. What a sweet, little thing.

He had the sudden urge to roll down the car window so he could hear what voice accompanied that divine face. But he thought better of it. And sooner than he would prefer, you were in your car and driving off.

When Tommy finally showed up, apparently physically unable to take his lips off of Maria’s, judging by how they never separated even after he was out the door. Joel rolled his eyes and turned his face away from that scene and towards the street on his other side.

Finally Tommy got into the car with a disgusting, lovesick smile on his face. But he smelled like shampoo and his hair was relatively wet. He showered and for that Joel is eternally grateful.

“You’re late” Joel deadpanned.

“And good morning to you too, brother” The younger man scoffed before placing two travel mugs in the cup holders.

Joel scrunched his eyebrows “what's that?”

“Coffee, Maria’s roommate brews her own with one ‘a those pour over kits and she insisted that we try hers.”

Joel’s throat went dry, thinking about that pretty girl he was unashamedly staring at, going out of her way to make enough coffee for her friend’s boyfriend’s brother. A sweet, delightful little thing.

“That’s real nice of her” if his voice cracked a little, Tommy didn’t notice.

“Yeah it is. So I’ve been thinkin’,” Tommy changed the subject faster than Joel would like. “You think you can drop me off at my place at say.. Two?”

“Two? We finish at the site at least after Three, what d’ya mean you wanna get out at Two?” Joel shifted his eyes from the road long enough to glare at his brother.

“Yeah I know but I was thinkin’” Joel is really starting to hate it when Tommy thinks “today’s me and Maria’s six months anniversary, and I kinda wanna do somethin’ special for her”

Six months anniversary Joel mentally scoffed, the fuck is a six months anniversary? And why isn’t he talking more about that damn sweet roommate!

“Yeah no can do, Romeo. We’re already behind ‘cause ’a last week, need I remind you that you ditched me laying down parquet on my own? had to do the three bedrooms that day all by myself”

“I told you we should’a done planks instead of parquet but you never listen to me, do you?” Tommy’s counter argument was weaker than he was hoping for. It was the owner’s choice, not Joel’s. And they both knew it. “Plus I had a damn plausible excuse that day”

“Not sure if a discount on an already cheap restaurant counts as plausible”

“It wasn’t just a ’discount’, Joel. It was a surf ‘n turf for half the price!”

“Yeah well I was surfin’ and turfin’ alone on the floors of the Johnsons. You’re not ditchin’ me again.”

Tommy slumped down on his chair like a toddler would.

On a red light Joel finally picked up his mug and took his first sip. A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making little thing.

——

Before he even knew it, Joel was opening the passenger side door for you, not taking no for an answer. Thankfully, you didn’t put up that much of a fight and climbed your pretty ass in his truck.

The ride was pretty short and silent. The sound of thunder and loud smacks of raindrops against the car not leaving much room for chatting anyway.

When he parked as close as he could to your door, he reached behind your seat to the pocket of it. And brought out a small, folded umbrella. He knew it was a mere seconds walk from the car to your door, but he had the umbrella with him already, so why risk giving you a cold? Your nose, red and sniffling. He had to actively suppress the upturn of the corners of his lips.

“Here” he handed you the umbrella and before you could get a chance to speak, he followed with “not taking no for an answer, darlin’. Gettin’ soaked in this wind could get you sick”

“Um.. actually the storm’s getting stronger, and I was gonna suggest you come inside? I don’t know if I’m comfortable with you driving in this weather”

A sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful little thing.

He looked out the windows, trying to figure out his next move.

“Think I’ll take you up on that offer. It does look pretty bad, and the slippery streets are harder to navigate when I can’t see further than my nose.” He brought his eyes to you. Hoping he wouldn’t seem too eager to agree.

You graced him with a smile and said “well alright then, guess now I don’t have to feel bad for hogging you umbrella”

“ ‘s not hogging if I’m voluntarily givin’ it to you” he smirked as he turned off the car. He got out of it with a quick “stay where you are” and opened the umbrella as he rounded to your side of the truck.

You walked under the umbrella he was holding. You’ve never been this close to him before and it gave you goosebumps that had nothing to do with the weather. You fiddled with your keys until you got the door open. There was no car outside or shoes in the foyer. They must’ve gone to Tommy's then. As much as you always wanted some quiet, alone time in your apartment. This was not one of those times. You were hoping Maria and Tommy were here to take the edge off of being alone with Joel, but you can’t really back out now and you’re already here. So, time to take a page out of the southern manners book.

”What would you like to drink?” you offered after he settled on the couch. His large frame dwarfing your whole living room, making everything look almost miniature. The thought had you blushing and you don’t really know why, but you don’t even want to find out.

“Coffee would be nice, if it's not a bother” his voice travelled through his place on the couch to the kitchen.

You can’t help the excited grin you have on “not at all! I just got a new Holklotz set that I’ve been dying to try out” when you get a new brewing set, you need time to experiment with different coffee grinds, ratios and timing between blooming and brewing to master the perfect cup. Time is a luxury not available to you on late mornings when you trade it for extra minutes of sleep.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen make you raise your head to see Joel coming into view, his eyebrows scrunched and confused “you got a what?”

You smile and hold the wooden base of the dripstand that you took out of the cabinet “this is my newest set, it arrived a week ago but between work and being too tired after, I haven’t had the time to bring it out and try it yet. Until now” you look at him with a too excited smile that you don’t try to hide.

“Well alrighty then, you happen to have here the perfect white mouse, test away” he settles at the barstool by the kitchen island that you’re standing by. You weigh the coffee beans and put them in the manual grinder, set to the size you need. Not too coarse but not too fine.

“Okay white mouse, care to help?” You hold up the grinder.

“Tell me what you need, boss” he concludes. So, you hand him the grinder to work on it as you heat the water and take the rest of the set out and put it together.

He continues working on grinding the coffee and wonders if you have immensely great upper body strength, since you do this every morning. His coffee is already ground and comes in a container. He doesn’t see the necessity for an upper body workout every time you need a little caffeine. But truth be told, he has been craving that coffee you made him that one time. Damned if it wasn’t the best cup he’s ever had.

The silence is killing him, and he has to avail from the storm that brought him to your home. “So, when you’re not at work or training for an arm wrestlin’ tournament,” he gestures to the grinder “what do you like to do?”

“Obviously, I take part in the tournaments I train for” you say with a serious expression that has his eyes widened in surprise. “I’m kidding, Joel. Although I think I have a good solid shot at winning.” You stick your nose up in the prettiest little smug face and Joel wants to kiss it away so bad. Focus.

He drags himself back to the present “can’t argue with that. But, if you’re basing that over this,” he again gestures to the grinder in his hands “then it’s not enough bargain for winning”.

You scoff and raise your hands up, wiggling your fingers “you have no idea what these hands can do” Joel can see you regretted blurting out the words without thinking, judging by the rising blush on your face and the way you don’t meet his eyes anymore. He can’t say he’s any better, his mind is already conjuring unholy images, reeling his brain and sending a rush of tingling heat down south.

What can they do? He imagines your small hands trying to wrap around his throbbing cock. Or you writhing on your bed stuffing yourself with three of your too small fingers, desperately trying to cum. He bets he can do it faster and better for you. If you give him the chance.

He knows he shouldn’t be picturing you like this. It’s crazy to even think about you like this. You haven’t even told him if you’re interested. Hell he never even said anything to show you he’s interested.

Clearing your throat, this time you’re the one bringing him back to the present, you say “anyway, I think I got off topic there” you let out a nervous chuckle. “To answer your question. My time is pretty much divided between work, coffee and my plants. I’m kinda boring, don’t really got much going on”

Joel doesn’t hear the presence of a partner in your life, and he selfishly likes it.

“Don’t sound boring to me, ‘s pretty comfortable” you smile at his comment and he gives you the coffee grounds, ready to be used.

You start your brewing process, talking him through every step you’re doing. Wetting the filter, dumping the coffee grounds in and meticulously pouring the water on the dripper. The blooming, the timing. He can’t promise he heard everything. Because you bite your bottom lip and your face contorts in the cutest focused face and he can’t help but stare. You really love doing this and he wants to eat you up.

“My chemex is my go-to on late mornings,” You suddenly pipe up as you’re waiting for the water to drip through the coffee grounds. “Even though it takes longer than a V60, It’s just faster to clean up and I can dual-task while it’s brewing. So I don’t mind.”

He lets out a hum from the back of his throat, considering what you said. “What about the taste? Whaddya like more?” He surprises himself that he actually cares and not just trying to be polite.

“I like them both the same, the flavour with the V60 is usually richer ‘cause the filters are thinner, but I still like the soft, smooth taste when using the chemex”.

In the back of his mind, Joel thinks he’s ready to fall in love with you. He loves coffee, sure. But to him it’s just something he needs in the morning and sometimes later in the day. Never really thought much of it, he has a coffee machine that gets work done for him. And yet, here you are, showing him a different, almost artistic aspect of it.

“Although..” Okay so you’re not done yet. “If we’re talking taste-wise in the brewing methods, I’ll have to go with the syphon”

“Syphon?”

“Yes syphon, I tried it once in a lovely family owned coffee shop across town. I’m telling you, if I lived near there? I would be a regular faster than you can say syphon”

“Well syphon is a long word, two full syllables” he faux ponders, making you giggle.

“Okay smartass, coffee’s ready.” You pull out two mugs from the cabinet. And fill them up. And slide his across the kitchen island, a brown owl adorning the ceramic surface.

You both sip at the same time then let out a ridiculously simultaneous soft sighs. You look at Joel with wide, pleading eyes, gauging his reaction. And of course, being the honest man that he is, he would never lie.

“Damn, that is good” he clicks his tongue and goes for another sip.

You smile brightly “I like it too. Although it’s a little more bitter for my liking, think I'll adjust the grind next time.”

You want to kick yourself so bad. You’re only now realising that you got too comfortable and you let yourself go on and on about something he probably doesn’t even care about. You had to shut the caffeine talk down.

“So, Joel, how's Sarah?” You gestured for him to follow you to the living room.

He settled on one side of the loveseat while you occupied the other, folding your legs under yourself. “She’s alright, her mom wanted her to see her grandma so she’s with her this week.” Maria told you all about their co-parenting system and how they’re succeeding in making it work so far. Little 10 years old Sarah spends equal amounts of time with both her parents and she feels loved by both. Not everything is a bed of roses, of course. But they deal with obstacles when they appear in their time.

“That’s nice, and how was her game last week? I remember you said she was nervous about it?” He stared at you for a few seconds too long that it makes you wonder if you crossed a line or said something wrong. But he blinked a couple of times and continued.

“Doin’ great actually, my little goal getter” he pondered softly before announcing “she scored the winning goal in last week’s game!” He sat up a little, you think it’s unconsciously as a result of his excitement.

“Oh my god! That’s so amazing!” You matched his energy “you must be so proud!”.

His smile widened if it was possible “I am, she puts her mind into something and never rests ‘til she gets it,” he reclined against the couch again “dunno where she got it from, but I sure as hell am not gonna complain”

“You’re selling yourself short, Joel.” You offered a warm smile “I’m sure you’ve been a great influence on her, your determination is probably rubbing off on her.”

Joel’s expression softened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, sure means a lot coming from you, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest, I just wanna see my girl chasin’ her dreams and be happy. ‘s all I want”

“I have no doubt she’ll do so much, and she’ll achieve great things with your guidance and support” you placed your hand on his knees for reassurance.

He felt warmth all over his chest, his heartbeats exceeding those of a hummingbird. His eyes fell down to where your hand was touching and almost burning him, and they stayed there for a while before looking back at your eyes. He has this immense urge to kiss you. The tension has been building all night and his ability to hold himself off is getting harder and harder by the second.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his racing heart as he met your gaze. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your faith in her means the world to me."

Your hand lingered on his knee for a moment longer before you withdrew it, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "She's lucky to have you as her dad, y’know" you said softly, the look in your eyes showing the sincerity of your words.

A moment of silence passed between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze flickered to your lips, his own heart still pounding accompanied by longing. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to convey the feelings swirling inside him.

He brought his eyes back up to yours only to see that your gaze had been on his lips, mirroring his desires. Your gazes met, the tension snapped. Lightning flashes through the window right before your eyes and your lips crash in a bruising, soaring kiss that to outsiders would look as if you were trying to devour each other. Everything happened at a rather fast pace. The roaring of the thunder dwindled by frantic breathing and the rush of blood in his ears. His tongue demanded entry, which you gave no problem. He brought his large palm over your hips, pulling you over to straddle him, never breaking the kiss.

He felt your heat through the layers of clothes between you as you settled on his lap, pulling a soft gasp out of you. Using his grasp on your hips, he rocked you back and forth to grind your center on his bulge, eliciting a string of whines you let out in between the clashing of tongues. In a moment of sudden clarity, he broke off your lips but never moved too far away, he rested his forehead to yours, sharing the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice husky with emotion.“Um- I’m sorry, is- is this okay?”

You continued to move against him, seeking more friction. Then you chuckled through your laboured breathing, “yeah, yes I want this. If- if you do too.”

“Oh darlin’ you have no idea” he hurried out before picking up where he left off, trailing his lips down the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck where he settled on open mouthed kisses that sent your head falling back, giving him more of you. He got addicted to the taste of your skin on his tongue fast and he craved to taste more.

Dragging his mouth over your shoulders then to your collarbone. He huffed in frustration, your shirt was personally offending him by denying him the access he needed. Seeming to sense his frustration, you pushed him away slightly so you could pull off your shirt over your head in one smooth motion. He wasted no time roaming his hands all over your torso, returning his mouth to your collarbones, kissing his way down to the parts of your breasts spilling out from your bra.

His hands slithered up from your hips to the sides of your waist, then wrapped around your back and moved up to hook his fingers underneath the strap of your bra. He mumbled against your skin, “can I take it off?” You gasped your affirmation. Overwhelming sensations leaving you breathless.

Even though it was a simple bra strap, he struggled to unhook it. Hands too shaky and excited. You breathed a laugh and did it yourself. Once you’re completely bare, nipples perking up as soon as the cold air hits them. He pulled away, looking at you with wide, fascinated eyes. His lips immediately latched around a nipple, flicking his tongue slowly, almost as if he’s savouring the feeling. He pulled away and murmured “beautiful”. Just to latch onto the other one with the same treatment, “absolutely beautiful” he murmured again into the plushness of your tits.

You felt a shiver at the undivided attention from the gorgeous man that seems to never get enough of you. Of course you always thought he was handsome, that was non negotiable. The man was gorgeous from day one. And tonight, you felt a connection that you never felt before. And as soon as the ties were made, the tension rose suddenly, as if it had always been there but you were too much in your head to notice it, contemplating whether he likes you or not. But now, you do notice it. Very much so. And it’s becoming unbearable. You want him so bad. You want him to drown all your senses. You want him inside, outside, under and over you.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You held his head with both your hands to pull him away from your chest before saying “need to see you too, Joel” you pleaded as you fumbled with the hem of his shirt trying to lift it. His eyes darkened at your desperation. As quick as the lightning that occasionally lights up the room around you, he flipped you so your back is against the couch and took off his shirt and jeans and hovered above you.

You took a steadying breath and your eyes drank in the sight in front of you, bringing your hands on each of his wrists. You mapped the outlines of his thick arms, moving towards his shoulders. Then brought them back to his broad chest, bare except for the hair that formed a thick layer in the center. You felt the muscles ripple under your fingertips. Built from the physical labour that a contractor would endure. You lowered your touch a little to feel his soft stomach. Squishy tummy, a sign of a man that was actually living and feeding himself well. Not shying away from a meal or obsessing over fitting society’s mould of perfection. You wanted to kiss it and nibble on it so bad, but you weren’t sure if he’d be okay with it, that was probably more of a second time type of thing. Mentally shaking your head away from the idea that you’re already thinking of next time when nothing even happened yet. Lastly, you ran your fingers on the smattering of coarse, dark hair that dipped further down into his tented boxers.

Mostly empty coffee cups long abandoned on the table. He knelt on his knees between your spread legs, and yanked your pants and panties in one quick motion. Towering over your naked form. His eyes danced around every inch of your body. He brought his thumbs to each side of your heat. Tracing the outside of your folds. He murmured so low, almost as if he’s talking to himself “Too goddamn pretty for your own good, baby”. He was basking in the sight of your desperate writhing as your need for any kind of friction became unfathomable.

“Please,” you whined in frustration, A smirk pulled on his lips at your little pouty face.

“Please what, darlin’?”

“Touch me” your keen hands reach for his wrists to coax them where you want him. But he was determined to keep his hands at their place.

Yeah, your hands are too small, too soft for such a sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager little thing.

“I am touching you now, ain’t I?” He keeps stroking the outside of your lower lips.

“More, please.” You whimpered.

“Well, you leave me no choice now, since you asked so nicely”

He wasted no time gathering the slick from your opening and plunging his thick middle finger in and out. Your breath catching at the sudden but welcome stretch. Not long after, his ring finger joined inside and he curled them both up, searching and finding the spot that makes your eyes roll and your hips buck into his hand in shock.

“sit still, angel.” He placed his other hand on your lower stomach to keep your back rested on the couch. He picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out, in and out, massaging the same spot over and over and over. He felt your walls slightly tightening around his fingers, and there’s a change in the rhythm of your breathing. You’re close. “Cum for me, angel. Come on lemme see this pretty pussy droolin’ for me”. He kept his pace up until you were gasping for air. And with a specifically strong stroke, your walls clumped down, choking his fingers and soaking them to the wrist. Working you through your high, he kept his eyes on you, the sight of you coming apart on his fingers. Heavenly.

He took his fingers out and sucked them with lewd, obscene sounds. He made a show to lick his palm clean of your release and humming around his fingers. “Next time, I’m havin’ it straight from its source” he leaned down and kissed your parted lips. “Oughta have a palate cleanser ‘f we’re gonna give your coffee a fair shot” he gave a playful smack to your ass “and you sure know how to make ‘em.”

You blushed and giggled as you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of the prospect of a next time. The image of Joel relishing the taste of you is already seared deep in your brain. You couldn’t wait to have these slurping noises happening between your legs, certain already that he doesn’t eat, he devours.

He sat up on his haunches and lowered his boxers below his balls. He took his cock in his hand. Not even his large hand wrapped around it makes it seem any less girthy. The head is angry and leaking a steady stream. He gives himself slow, languid strokes from base to red-purplish head. You couldn’t help yourself, you sat up and your hand took over his. Stroking him at the same pace he was. He shuddered at your touch and marvelled at the contrast between his rough, calloused hand versus your soft, smooth ones on his cock. You gradually increased the pressure, adding a twist at the end that sent his head falling back with a stifled groan between his clenched teeth.

His hands were tight fists by his sides, desperately trying to hold off but ready to pounce at you any moment. “Hold on, baby” he groaned “I- I gotta grab a condom”

“But I wanna feel you, and I’m safe” you said in a little, unsure voice. Still stroking him and loving the velvety softness enveloping the steely hardness. When your gazes met again, the hungry look in his eyes made a tiny sound climb to the back of your throat. With that, the last thread holding off the beast inside him snapped. With a low growl he grabbed your ankles, yanking you closer to his pelvis, making your back hit the soft pillow on the couch with a dull thud.

“Baby, I’m clean too. But I need ya to be sure, angel. ‘Cause when I start, ‘m not really sure I can stop” He said through dark eyes that were straining to hold off.

You held firm eye contact with him “I’m sure, Joel. Please fuck me now”

“Yes, ma’am” with that, he ran his cock through your slit, gathering you wetness before lining it with your entrance and with one quick motion he sinks into you. Your moans and his name on your tongue, dripping honey onto his ear. He feels your warmth enveloping every inch of him. He wants to get lost in the feeling. To replace every bad memory he has with this sensation, the divine fit of your silky smooth walls, encompassing him. So tight, so soft, so perfect.

As his hips rocked back and forth, you wrapped your legs around him, and dug your heels into his ass, wanting him impossibly deeper. Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy little thing. He removed his hands from beside your head to hold the base of your skull in one of his palms and wrap the other under your waist for leverage. Grunting into your neck while your pretty moans filling his ears got louder as he moved in a pace that promised him a date with painkillers and an ice pack on his back tomorrow night.

When he felt the telltale signs of your near release, he gently let go of your head to bring his hand down and circle your bundle of nerves. Your continuous string of frantic pleads prompted him to lay soothing kisses to the corner of your mouth. With a compulsive string of “it’s okay, baby”, “sound so pretty whinin’ like that”, and “just let go for me, princess.”

The last one pushing you over the edge. With your legs quivering, your breathing turning into shallow panting and your hands clawing at his back. He was working you through it all with a “that’s it, angel. There ya go”, “so good for me” and “look so pretty cummin’ on my cock”.

Once your muscles stopped contracting and your heartbeat settled on. Joel switched to a more gentle pace. You stuttered out between small gasps of air “cum for me, Joel. Fill me up”. Leaving him no choice but to buck into you wildly with renewed vigour. Fucking you like all of his goddamn life is depending on it.

Loving the effect you have on him, you whispered “Wanna feel you inside me after you leave, Joel”. This makes his release hit him like a freight train. With a few forceful plunges and a string of grunted out fucks. He shoots his load with a prolonged groan of your name, painting your walls with strong, long spurts. He came so hard, he thinks he blacked out for a minute.

He collapsed on top of you, nuzzling in your neck and surrounding himself in your scent as he comes down from his high. In the middle of the chaos of regulating heartbeats and relaxing bodies, your laboured breathing turns into a giggle when his beard tickles your neck and under your jaw. He lifted his head to look at you with a ��what?” and scrunched eyebrows. You stifled your giggle with a shake of your head. Only failing when he dips his head in your neck again. He smirked when realisation hit him. Lifting his head again “You’re ticklish ain’tcha, angel?” His face is so close your noses were touching.

You pressed your lips in a firm, straight line and shook your head again.

“No? So you don’t mind me doing this?” He rubbed his beard on your neck again and again. You went into a giggle fit that triggered his own breathy chuckles as he switched to the other side.

“Okay, okay I am, I am!” You managed to say between giggles.

He stopped and looked you straight in the eyes “ ‘s what I thought” he descended his lips on yours and they mingled in a soft, deep kiss that made you lightheaded. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this, “Lemme clean ya up, princess”.

One year later.

The anniversary of your first “get together” is today. Joel wanted to skip work all together, but he knew Tommy would give him shit about it. How ironic.

He rented a gorgeous, comfy cabin for the weekend, that’s a thirty minutes drive away from town. Joel coaxed Sarah into a slumber party at her uncle’s, which she would’ve very happily agreed to either way. But she’s a smart kid and she chose to haggle for a later bedtime and ice cream for dessert both nights.

He wanted to take the extra time to prepare everything you might need, from basic essentials like food or first aid kits, to extra entertainment options like books or puzzles. He doubts they’ll need the latter though.

——

But then again, it’s April, and a storm was closing in. Rendering the drive there too dangerous to make during the night. And the storm is predicted to last the whole weekend, even threatening to close schools on Monday.

“I’m just upset you didn’t get your money’s worth from that cabin” you say with worried expressions as you put away the food that you aimlessly packed earlier.

Joel brings the last of the suitcases in, sitting them by the door. “The owners seem pretty nice, bet they’ll understand and agree to push the reservation back”

“Then, that settles it.” You sighed and closed the fridge with finality. “We’re having our anniversary weekend here” you approached him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He instinctively placed his hands on the dip of your waist, and grunted with furrowed eyebrows “I got a long ass list of things I wanted to do to you in that cabin, now ‘s just sitting in my wallet mockin’ me”.

“It’s for the better, gives me time to make my own list” you teased him with a wink and a bite to your lower lip.

He squeezed your waist with a low, gravel groan. Eyes on your lips in a strong, hungry stare.

But before he can act on his thoughts you unwrap yourself from his tight grasp and turn away with a shout that carries upstairs “Sarah, change of plans! We’re staying here for the weekend!”

Hearing her footsteps descending the stairs, Sarah asked “you’re staying with us too?”. She squeals when you nod with a bright grin. “Now we can watch that movie I told you about last week!” With that, she drags you into the living room, gushing to you about the movie while you listen with interest and occasional oohs and aahs and reactions Joel knows are genuine.

Every other sound dies down as one thought only echoes in his head.

Oh god, please let me keep her.

The black, velvet box burns a hole in his suitcase. And item no.1 on his list sits idle by, just waiting to be checked.

He knows you’ll say yes, this isn’t a subject you avoid. You’re both aware of what you want in a relationship and you communicate your needs to each other. So you’re both sure that you’re on the same page. The element of surprise lies in the timing and method only.

As he looks at you and his daughter, he knows that this feels right. This is how it is supposed to be.

Okay, he owes Tommy an apology. Because now he understands disgusting, lovesick smiles and the urge to get out of work early. He understands six month anniversaries, because when he’s with you; there isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for the mere chance to make you happy.

A Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

My Sweet, delightful, damn-good coffee making, thoughtful, eager, greedy, dreamy little thing.

——

A/N : Again, if you’re still here, I love you so much & you made my day <333 pls tell me your thoughts! I write cuz i love doing it but i need to know if i should continue to upload or just let the contents of my delulu brain stay in my phone 🫣

Loon out, luv yaa <33

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #joel miller x f!reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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hellyeahsickaf · 11 months ago

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You know how you look back at past shitty connections, friends, family dynamics, and relationships and you're like "I can't believe I let them treat me that way"? I think it hits differently with disability because when you're disabled you don't always even know that you're being mistreated and/or abused in regards to it.

I know statistically disabled people are more likely to be abused but sometimes there's an additional type of abuse that's hard to identify even in hindsight because no one tells you how abusive it is.

But ableist abuse relating to your disability can look like:

Pushing you to do things beyond your limitations despite their awareness of them.

Blaming you for the "inconveniences" brought on by things beyond your control (ex: missing a movie because you had to wait for your pain meds to kick in).

Not allowing you to take breaks or antagonizing you when you do.

Bullying or making fun of things you can't help like gait, a lisp, an embarrassing symptom.

Trying to "cure" or "fix" you, often framing it as "helping" you. Sometimes they look similar and you might be able to tell by their reaction towards lack of improvement.

Holding over you the things they have to do for you (cooking, cleaning, driving, working, etc).

Giving ultimatums that demand things of you that you can't do (getting a job, keeping up with multiple chores).

Using insulting terms, language, and/or slurs that you have not permitted them to or in a context where there is intent to harm you.

Interrogating you about your disability or trying to find discrepancies between your experiences and what they've heard/read/seen about it.

Implying or saying anything along the lines of you faking, being lazy, or exaggerating. Reducing you to a hypochondriac, saying you enjoy being disabled because you seem to like having things done for you, or that you're lazy or abusing them by depending on them for things.

Asking you about it not to learn more, but to use it against you in some way.

Having a martyr complex, acting as if they're a hero for giving you the support you deserve.

Calling you a burden, implying you to be one, or treating you like one.

Acting like you owe them a debt, sometimes even demanding some kind of repayment. Keeping track of money they spend on you that you won't be able to pay back, feeling entitled to things like control, sex, a portion of government benefits, etc.

Self victimizing. They act like you being disabled causes more suffering to themselves than you.

Accusing you of being addicted to your medication. If you genuinely develop an addiction a normal response is concern not rage, finger pointing, etc. if you don't have one baseless claims are very harmful

Trying to force you to stop "depending" on things you need like medication and disability aids

Comparing you to others that are doing "better" than you. Maybe showing you inspiration porn of someone with no legs for example doing incredible things- which is great for them but the "I don't let my disability stop me so you can do anything" shit is harmful. Some of us will get very unwell if we try, and some just can't.

Trying to make others also see you as dramatic, faking, or lazy. Often embarrassing and mocking you as well.

Withholding things you need like medication or disability aids as a punishment

Saying your disability is karma or something inflicted by a divine entity/religious figure. Maybe as punishment for not praying, being queer, or something else they disagree with.

Saying that it's a result of being "promiscuous"/LGBT. For instance if you have HIV or ME/CFS that was a result of something like mononucleosis ("kissing disease").

Shaming you for things related to your disability beyond your control or expressing embarrassment over these things. including but not limited to: appearance (general but also things like say a lupus butterfly rash or weight gain/loss), having to lay down in public (ex: with POTS), inability to keep up with hygiene, etc.

Lacking boundaries and acting as if they are entitled to information or intrusion of your space/belongings due to the power they hold over you and assistance they may provide.

Implying/saying you're living an extended vacation. Maybe one they say they wish they had because they have to do x y z while you "sit around"

Abandoning you solely for your disability (ex: because you can't hang out, they don't want a disabled partner, think you're faking, etc)

Note that someone doing one or two of these things a few times doesn't always mean they're abusing you (also depends on which). It's about the patterns and frequency of this behavior as well as refusal to improve once aware that they're hurting you. People who care about you don't want to hurt you and the normal response is to do their best not to repeat the action that negatively affected you

There are more examples and you can feel free to list some

✨This is about physical illnesses and disabilities, please don't derail✨

#I've experienced most of these unfortunately and it took a long time to identify some of it as abuse #chronic illness #chronic pain #disability #fibromyalgia #cfs #chronic fаtiguе ѕуndrоmе #actually disabled #spoonie #me/cfs #cfs/me #long covid #tw abuse #medical ableism #ableism #cpunk #cripplepunk

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napakmahal · 5 months ago

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Nobody gets me

Tadashi x Health teacher! Reader

It’s about time I posted this

You’d been grading for what seemed like days. Admin was cracking down on all the teachers to get their grading done before the end of the quarter and you still had several classes unit tests. It didn’t help that this year you’d been ordered to teach two sports medicine classes for your fifth and sixth period.

For a moment, you’d wished you just made the test easier because then it’d be easier to grade. But you knew better. To make the tests easier this late in the year would make your seniors unprepared, and your seniors could not afford to fail a class this close to the end of the year.

All this work for the small amount you made was not fucking worth it. But it wasn’t like you were in the position to just quit and you liked your students. So you sat on your boyfriends bed grading till your hand cramped around your red gel pen.

After a while you let go of the pen to shake your hand out but cramps can hurt like a bitch. You let how and was instantly faced with a sharp shooting pain in your thumb.

“Shit, ow.” You hissed, forgetting about the voice controlled box next to the bed.

A whirring sound followed by a sound of inflating air filled the room. You cussed at the inconvenience and felt the beady eye of the cameras on you.

“Hello, I am Baymax. Your personal healthcare companion. I was alerted to the need for medical attention when you said ‘ow’.” The first time you met Tadashi’s robot was a complete shock. You knew what he did but when you came to visit him on campus to eat lunch with him he left mid meal to use the bathroom. While there you sat directly on the bone of your ankle and whispered “ow” to yourself. Baymax was activated and scared the shit out of you.

“Hi Baymax, I’m alright. I just had a little cramp.” You sighed.

He said in his robotic voice, “On a scale from 1-10 how would you rate your pain?”

“A zero, I promise. It’s gone now, I’m all good.” You try again.

“I will scan you for injuries…scan complete. You have a contraction muscle spasm in your hand. I would suggest taking a break and hot and cold compress.”

You laughed through your nose. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

Then he said the magic words. “I can only deactivate if you say you are satisfied with your care.”

“Thank you, Baymax. I’m 100 percent satisfied with-“

You paused. In the corner of your vision you could still see the stack of tests you were going to grade. “Actually, could you help me with something?”

Tadashi was coming back from a nighttime lecture. He felt bad leaving Hiro at the lab by himself but he’d insisted he needed to do more work and frankly, Tadashi was exhausted. He walked into the cafe with a small amount of customers still lingering getting late night meals and typing away on their laptops.

Aunt Cass was clearing out the remainder of the freshly baked goods into boxes. “Hey rockstar, how was class?”

“I’m tired.” He sighed and reached into one of the boxes to grab himself a donut hole. “My professor decided to write especially small and quickly today.”

“Have you eaten? I think there’s some leftover pasta.” She ran her fingers through his hair.

Tadashi rubbed his eyes. “Hiro and I got food earlier.” He eased her. “Is she upstairs?”

“Hasn’t come down since you left. I tried to get her to take a break but she refused.” Aunt Cass took another pot of coffee off the counter and began doing her refill rounds.

Tadashi made his way up the stairs, basically dragging his feet. He could hear two voices coming from his room, both he knew very well. One voice he loved and another he created. “Hey love…and Baymax.”

You smiled and took off from your bed to greet him. “Baymax is helping me.”

He kissed your forehead. “Yeah I can see that. You guys getting a lot of work done?”

“We are grading Unit test 1B: Macromolecules and nutrition.” Baymax responded robotically.

The two of you laughed and flopped onto his bed. The stack of graded paper was now higher than the ungraded ones. Tadashi scrolled through the questions on the test and was shocked at how surprisingly difficult they were.

He joked, “I’m so glad you feel comfortable using my robot to grade your papers.”

“Well you made him to help people.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “He’s helping me! Right Baymax?”

“Correct.” He simply responded. The two of you laughed and Tadashi joined in on your grading party.

When you were finished, Baymax went back to his cherry red case and you were left to watch a movie with your boyfriend.

“Does this mean I get my girlfriend back?” He asked, muffled into your neck. All the grading had you booked and busy for the past two weeks.

You gently pet his hair and laughed. “Yes, you get her back.”

“Yay. I miss her.” He pressed a few lazy kisses to the side of your neck. “Your kids are doing good. You’re doing good.”

You often vent to Tadasi about your students scores and potential. Your philosophy being: if they did bad you were doing a bad job. “Thank you. How was class today?”

“Tiring. My professors are being especially difficult this time around.” He said still pressed against your neck. “But this is nice.”

You kissed the top of his head and pressed your nose into it. Both of you exhausted from your weeks resting and recharging against one another. You breathed out with relief and calmness, “Yeah, this is nice.”

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #disney #fanfic #hiro hamada #tadashi hamada #napakmahal #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #aunt cass #bh6 tadashi #bh6 hiro #Baymax show #Baymax!#bh6 Cass #health teacher! reader #it’s about damn time #sorry this took so long pookies

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odinsblog · 2 months ago

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[re: this post]

The bad news is, I’m stranded because my condo has only one road in and out, and that’s 100% underwater rn

The other bad news is, my car is flooded even though I thought I moved it to higher ground

BUT … the heartening news is this:

This condo complex is roughly 2,500 units so tons of people live here. We were all without power from around 4pm yesterday until 10:30am today

So at daybreak everyone was outside surveying the damage and trying to figure out how to get their sunken cars started and how to get out (we’re just going to have to wait for the waters to recede iMho)

I took one look at my VERY RECENTLY PAID FOR CAR as it sat submerged, and started to head back inside. That’s when a neighbor I’d never met before asked me if my phone was charged. I told her no, it’s completely dead. She then directed me to another neighbor who found one outlet that, for some reason, still had power. There were about 10 or 15 people lined up and someone had gotten probably the longest extension cord w/outlets that I’ve ever seen in my life. If you weren’t already charging your phone on the outlet, there was one outlet spot where everyone was taking turns to get a quick 10 minute charge and make some calls. Apparently everyone had already voted to use one of the extension cord outlets full time for a coffee pot (because coffee, right?)

There was someone else outside whose car wasn’t submerged who was letting people use his car to charge their phones

And then I heard someone say, “Are there any elderly or disabled people living here who we need to go check on?” And I said, “OMG, what about the lady on the 7th floor? She’s in a wheelchair!” And someone else said that the elevator was out because of no power, and I was like, “So? Are the stairs broken? I can run up and go check on her.” And then someone else was like, “She died a couple of years ago.” And we were all like, “Ohhh.”

I’m rambling a bit, but the point is, it was super refreshing to see people working together and sharing and helping each other. This wasn’t a disaster by any stretch of the imagination. At worst, it has merely been a big inconvenience. But it was still nice to see neighbors (many of whom were strangers until this morning) being nice and helpful to each other

It reaffirms what I’ve always believed: in difficult times most people WILL work together—without any personal or monetary incentive. So please don’t believe greedy ass mutha fuckers when they opine about survival of the fittest and making a quick profit off of someone else’s suffering. It doesn’t have to be that way, and most often, it isn’t that way

And yeah, I know that my small experience wasn’t a dire situation and no lives were on the line (like they are where the hurricane actually made landfall), but I would like to believe that my microcosm is the norm for similar macrocosms

I believe that most people are good at heart, or at the very least, they WANT to be good and sometimes just need a nudge in the right direction

Anyway, I guess it’s about time for me to go do battle with my car insurance company (now talk about evil entities!) to see what up with my partially submerged vehicle

If anyone has done this insurance claim dance before, I’m open to some friendly advice bc this is brand new for me

Please have a great day today everyone ✌🏿

#its a good day to be alive #hurricane helene #nice people rock #a post about me

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hollowed-theory-hall · 1 day ago

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What do you think cooking looks like in the wizarding world?

As in, how many modern ameneties do you think they're incorporating? We can assume they have things like a toaster, since they eat toast all the time in the books (unless there's a toasting spell) but I highly doubt the wizards have a dishwasher, since magic can fulfill the same function and the Weasleys don't use one.

Other things, like microwaves, are a little more unclear to me, since there's definitely a spell to reheat food, but microwaves also have some unique properties in HOW they cook that gets you things like mug cookies. And how would they be cooking rice? They'd probably have to stovetop it right? Which seems a lot more inconvenient than a microwave or a rice cooker.

Adding into that, there are unique ingredients wizards have access to with magical plants and animals that might require a different approach to cooking them. Do you have any thoughts on that front?

Do you think certain foods that are less common in the muggle world are really common in the wizarding world? Or vice versa?

We also know house elves do a lot of the cooking and chores for families that have them, but how much magic is involved in that process?

It also seems like even with magic involved, it takes Molly a lot of time and effort to cook. That might just be because she has to cook so much to feed everyone or because they eat everything homecooked, but I feel like it's an indicator that cooking with magic doesn't make the process that much easier, just different. Instead of a dishwasher you're using your wand and all that.

And speaking of homecooked, what kind of pre-packaged meals do you think exist in the wizarding world, and what would prep for that look like?

Sorry, this was like 12 questions in one, I just had more thoughts the more I looked at it.

I saw this ask and I was immediately super interested to answer it because it raises some fun world-building details. Now, I'm gonna say, right out of the gate, I think wizards use close to 0 (zero) modern amenities in cooking. They have spells, stoves, ovens, tools like knives, and that's basically it.

I'm gonna start with the toast since you can make toast without a toaster. All you need is a frying pan (or oven, but I use a frying pan).

So I assume that's how wizards make toast as Mr. Weasley clearly treats toasters as a muggle contraption he has no clue how to use:

Sitting on top of Mr. Weasley’s overflowing in-tray was an old toaster that was hiccuping in a disconsolate way and a pair of empty leather gloves that were twiddling their thumbs.

(OotP)

(I want to note about toast in a frying pan, as someone who makes it occasionally, the taste and consistency of the bread is so much better in a pan than in a toaster. You fry it with butter (or olive oil) so it doesn't get dry like in a toaster. It's great, you should try it)

And you don't need a rice cooker to cook rice, you can make rice in a pot on the stove with water, that's a thing people do (by people, I mean me, I never owned a rice cooker). Like, people made rice before the rice cooker was invented (as they made toast before the toaster was invented). But, I'll note I don't think rice is a standard part of the cuisine in Magical Britain, at least it doesn't seem to be served at Hogwarts or at the Weasleys. The staple carbs we see served most often in the books are potatoes, I believe (potatoes are probably the most mentioned food that isn't candy).

Like toasters, wizards have no idea what a microwave is or how it works:

Back in the kitchen, Moody had replaced his eye, which was spinning so fast after its cleaning it made Harry feel sick. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore were examining the microwave and Hestia Jones was laughing at a potato peeler she had come across while rummaging in the drawers.

(OotP)

They don't even know how to work a potato peeler which is interesting since they do peel potion ingredients. I assume they are used to just using knives and scalpels to peel ingredients and not peelers made for the job. Basically, wizards still cook like in the 19th century in terms of tools and amenities.

I was always under the impression they have heating, cooling, and preserving charms (since they don't have fridges) that replace many amenities. Though I assume preserving charms won't really work like a fridge, they would keep the food as it is, if it's warm, it stays warm so you won't even have to reheat it!

And any heating charm would likely not be able to cook like a microwave, neither would it heat like an oven or a stove (I imagine it'll have an effect similar to an air fryer if I had to guess) and they don't seem to have ready-made microwavable food either, so, they won't really need a microwave. I mean, all the food we see is homemade from scratch. Besides, pre-made meals just don't fit the vibe of the Wizarding World.

To continue the discussions of household charms, there is a charm that make dishwashers unnecessary:

She [Molly] flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.

(CoS)

As for it taking Molly time to cook even with magic, well, I think that has more to do with the cooking than the effort. Like, magic probably makes quite a few of the processes necessary for cooking (peeling, mixing, dicing, etc.) easier, but cooking still takes the same time. Like, if you need a certain amount of minutes to heat up water to a boiling point in a given heat, magic doesn't make a difference. If it takes 2 hours for something to bake in an even heat in the oven, it would still be 2 hours even if the heat source is magical. The heat is still the same heat. That's why, I think, magic doesn't really affect the time it takes for something to cook.

(I will note it's possible mixing, dicing, and peeling might need to be done by hand too considering they do all of this by hand for potions. But I think they can be done by magic mostly because potion-making is different from cooking and it's likely spells for this aren't as exact and precise as doing it by hand, especially for young and inexperienced wizards and witches. Also, a severing charm exists, and making a spoon mix a cauldron for you is very similar to making utensils clean themselves, which is something we know they can do. So, I think this is more a matter of personal preference of whoever is cooking)

House-elves need to cook the way wizards do. They don't have any unique magic that can speed things up. Certain things take a certain amount of time to cook and no magic can help it. There are pots and pans in Grimmauld Place that Kreacher uses to cook:

The kitchen was almost unrecognizable. Every surface now shone: Copper pots and pans had been burnished to a rosy glow; the wooden tabletop gleamed; the goblets and plates already laid for dinner glinted in the light from a merrily blazing fire, on which a cauldron was simmering.

(DH)

He still needs to cook in pots just like Molly does. So house-elf magic doesn't make much of a difference, I think.

As for common foods, I don't really know. We see potatoes and meats are very common, so, I'd say wizard cuisine is probably very local and doesn't have as much modern or international influences as the muggle one does. Wizards don't have fast food, nor do the ones in the UK seem to eat Asian food, for example. The food we see in the series is all very British. So, I think the cuisine would really be very local and based on stuff grown/raised locally by wizards (and perhaps muggles on occasion) for the most part. At least, that's the impression I got.

As for magical ingredients in food, well, most magical plants and herbs have magical properties used for potions. Many of these are properties you don't want your food to have, so I don't think magical plants are used for cooking often if at all.

Same with magical creatures as most of them are illegal to capture and kill. So, I don't see them as part of the cuisine either.

These are the thoughts I have on this at least.

#harry potter #hp #hp meta #asks #anonymous #harry potter meta #wizarding world #wizarding society #hollowedtheory #hollowedheadcanon

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blazenfire223 · 2 months ago

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Good Omens Love Letter- by @/elnorawhittaker

Day 12. Favorite GO Quote

As always, I have a few:

S1:

• "Got any better ideas? Got One Single Better Idea?" SASSY AZIRAPHALE KILLS ME ALWAYS

• "For my money it was an ordinary cock-up" JUST CROWLEY SHUTTING DOWN AZI IT'S FUNNY

• "Funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one?" Crowley looks adorable here and Aziraphale's little laugh before quickly saying "No! It wouldn't be funny at all!" Is very cute. The poor thing is so anxious

• The bits from "Didn't you have a flaming sword?" To "I gave it away!!" It's sooo good!

• Also, "Here you go, flaming sword, don't thank me." That line is so funny to me.

• "No dog." "No dog." "Wrong boy." "Wrong boy" Them being increasingly upset and disappointed is, once again, funny

• "Something's changed.." "It's a new cologne. My barber suggested..." "I know what you smell like!"

• "Thank you for my pornography!" Gabriel is such an idiot /pos

• "Crowley! You can't do 90 miles an hour in central London!" "Why not?" "You'll get us killed!! Well, inconveniently discorporated...What's a Velvet Underground?" "You wouldn't like it." "Oh. Be-bop" This entire interaction lives in my brain.

• "I would always know the stain was there..Underneath, I mean 🥺🥺🥺🥺" GOD HE IS SUCH A PRINCESS! HE GOT CROWLEY WRAPPED AROUND HIS FINGER I SWEAR

• "Oh Lord, heal this bike" "I got carried away."

• "What else am I gonna be? An Ardvark?"

• "Little demonic miracle of my own. Lift home?" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

• "I'll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go." "...You go too fast for me, Crowley" T^T

• "Most books on witchcraft will tell you witches work naked. That is because most books on witchcraft were written by men."

• "Oh...Fuck!"

• "Oodles of them. Pots of nipples! Nipples everywhere!"

• "You don't have a side. Neither of us do. We're on our own side now."

• "I think none of this would gave worked out if you weren't, at heart, just a little bit, of a good person." "Of if you weren't, deep down, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing."

• "To the world."

S2:

• "She had balls!"

• "You told my only friend to shut his stupid mouth and die. And I Did Not Care For It." PROTECTIVE CROWLEYYYYYYY

• "I rather thought I might take the car....Our Car" HE IS SUCH A BASTARD!

• "Look at you, you're gorgeous!"

• "Vavoom!"

• "Perhaps you could tell me. While we dance." I SWEAR THIS WAS ALL AN EXCUSE FOR HIM TO DO ROMANTIC/FUN SHIT WITH CROWLEY

• "Well!" (Bildad scene) THE SMUGNESS IN AZI IS SO FUCKING STRONG HERE

• "You were right. You were right. I was wrong. You were right."

I KNOW I HAVE MORE BUT I CANT THINK OF THEM RN and I don't feel like rewatching S2 just so I can remember them. I know there is definitely a moment with Job's son that I love so much because he's such a Sassy fruity bastard!! Also some lines from Muriel but I can't think of them rn T^T

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #blazenfire223 #good omens 2 #GOLoveLetter2024

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for hiding the kitchen pot I hate from my partner, who keeps using it even though I’ve asked him not to?

I (28NB) live with my partner (29M) and we love cooking together. We have a ton of various things for cooking, including a great number of pots and pans. Specifically, we have this massive pot—think the size of that one pot used for that chili in that gif of the office where the guy drops the chili everywhere. It’s huge!! And I hate it. It is technically my pot…actually, a majority of our kitchen things are originally mine, because I’ve lived on my own a lot longer than my partner has, and I have always had more cooking experience than he has too. The problem is, when he is the one to do the cooking for us, he is constantly using the giant pot that I hate, even when we have PLENTY of other pots that are much more suitable for whatever it is he’s cooking. In fact, it’s incredibly rare for us to ever have a meal that would actually warrant using the giant one, and when we do, it’s almost exclusively made in the crock pot.

Another problem with it is that it always takes up way too much space wherever it is—it takes up the majority of the sink, so often it will sit on the stove while it’s dirty since it barely fits in the sink, and naturally it takes up way too much space in the dishwasher too, when it’s actually in there. It’s also really fucking awful to wash by hand, especially if there’s ANY other dishes in the sink too. And of course, even though he and I take turns doing the dishes, I am almost always the one that ends up having to deal with it when it gets used. I don’t think he necessarily times it on purpose that way, but it has happened enough that I’ve had to ask him repeatedly to stop using it because I was sick of having to wash it, or at the very least, immediately washing it himself after using it…ESPECIALLY since there has always been a suitable alternative pot that would still fit whatever he’s cooking, and be a lot smaller and easier to deal with.

I got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore, because he continued to use it whenever he cooks and needs a pot for…just about anything. I didn’t want to throw it away, because it’s technically my pot to begin with, and there’s nothing *wrong* with it, other than being too big and inconvenient. So, there was one day when I was doing the dishes while he was at work, and sure enough, that stupid fucking pot was dirty from him making something that did NOT need that big of a pot. I decided enough was enough, and I washed it by hand and looked for a place to hide it. It currently lives in our coat closet, behind several spare towels, bedding, etc. and I highly doubt he would run into it, since we barely use everything in there. I had completely forgotten I’d hidden it (I think I hid it a few weeks ago now), because thankfully, I’ve not seen it around, obviously.

That is, until this evening when my partner was making some pasta for us. I had just put a load of dirty dishes in the dishwasher, which was in the middle of a cycle while he was cooking. So, as he’s getting ready to cook the noodles while the meat sauce was cooking still, he asks me if “the pot” was in the dishwasher. I asked him what pot he was talking about, and he specified he meant the unnecessarily big fucking pot that I hate, and have hidden in the coat closet. I quickly covered myself by saying “I think so…” in response to his question about it being in the dishwasher, and immediately started talking about the multiple other pots that would be perfectly fine to cook some spaghetti in. I went to grab one that was dirty and hand washed it for him, but by the time I went to hand it to him, he’d dug out another one that was clean—even smaller than the 1 I was offering him, and smaller still than a couple other pots in the cabinet, further proving that he absolutely did NOT need to use such a massive pot, since the one he chose was about a third of the size of the one I hate.

Well, all that worked out, dinner was made very easily and tasted great. And I was right that even if his instinct was always to use that stupid fucking massive pot for…literally anything that needed to be cooked in a pot, no matter how small the food is, we have plenty of more reasonably sized alternatives that I won’t want to scream when it’s time to do dishes (or use the kitchen sink when it’s sitting there dirty, or use the goddamn stove when the stupid thing is sitting there because there’s nowhere else it will fit). However, I have started feeling kinda guilty about lying to him about it. I also know eventually he will probably find out I hid it from him and lied about it. So, AITA here??

Tl;dr my partner loves to cook using a giant pot that takes up too much space, despite never needing a pot that big for literally anything we are cooking, and always having plenty of alternative cooking pots that are more reasonable…I asked him several times not to use it or at least wash it immediately himself so I don’t have to deal with it myself, but he keeps completely ignoring me about that…so I hid it from him, only now I feel guilty when he asked where it was and I lied.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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keepingitformyself · 1 year ago

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learning to warm cold hands

A/N: i don’t know what this is????? just a bunch of love nonsense because i was in the absolute mood for love (you’ll see). will it make sense? idk. the ending was intentionally made abrupt… hope u like it tho :]

synopsis: two people who love each other belong together. that’s it.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff?

warnings: none i don’t think…

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

—————————————

natasha still doesn’t know how to deal with it; being loved.

but every little obstacle she has ever faced in her life has been that she had to deal with it.

sometimes she’s still a bit astonished at the fact that she has an entire family who has her back, a sister who calls just to annoy her, a best friend who defends her, and you who she comes home to, to kiss and to love endlessly.

natasha thinks that in some sense she had always been in love with you. for the amount of time you’d know each other she thought it was so strange that it took so long for you to be together.

you were always there, in plain sight. then one day, the stars decided to align and you were there and she had finally seen the light.

so yes, natasha decides that you were the best thing she’s ever had to deal with. being in love with you? she will own up to it for as much as she can.

she has accepted the scary fact that she must let herself be known. she shall let you unravel her and climb inside her heart and choose to stay. she will deal with the consequences of it later, but she hopes not.

she carries a polaroid of you in her wallet as a reminder of this. it’s there when she opens it to pay for dinner with you, or groceries, or when she sees a bouquet of lillie’s she thinks you’d appreciate.

and when she comes home to your shared apartment you’re there in the kitchen cooking a meal for her.

‘my grandmas recipe. i know you loved them when she came to visit us.’ you say as you stir a pot on the stove. she lets out a laugh through her nose and comes up behind you for a hug.

‘i made it dairy free for you. i know you’re trying to cut that off a little.’ natasha’s heart swells even bigger.

when the food is ready and the table is set and you’ve put the lillie’s in a vase at the center of the table, you will sit together and eat. natasha will listen to you as you tell her about the dish.

how you cried chopping the onions and had to take a break in between, how much you thought about her liking this meal while you made it, and how you specifically only used red and orange peppers because you remember her telling you that ‘green is boring when it comes to vegetables’ and when you’re done with your rambling you’ll reach over the table and kiss her.

she’ll tell you she loves you and you tell her she has onion breath and you’ll both laugh and god being in love is such a beautiful thing.

but everyone has their bad days.

you usually enjoy the rainy weather but it’s that time of the month and it’s effecting your mood swings greatly. natasha offers to go out and buy your favorite snacks and a deli sandwich from the bodega two blocks down.

you decline her offer with a sad smile and hide yourself under the covers of your shared bed. natasha sighs, she knows you better than that. she knows how badly you want all those things but she also knows how much of an inconvenience you feel like when you get like this. she tries to let you know that she’s okay with going out in the rain to make you happier.

you don’t budge, instead you groan into the pillows and hide further into the sheets. ‘i just need to be alone for a while.’ you mutter, a bit annoyed.

with a new determined mindset she decides she’ll give you the space you need. she brushes off all comments you made and grabs her coat before quietly leaving out the front door.

the rain doesn’t bother her one bit. she makes it to the bodega in record timing and orders from the deli. your order leaves her mouth as if she were ordering for herself.

‘can i have teriyaki grilled chicken on a sourdough with three slices of mozzarella and honey mustard, some grilled onions on the side too, can you also toast the bread for about thirty seconds longer? please, thank you.’ she orders for herself and smiles at the man working the grill then sets off on finding your desired snacks.

she’s quick with it, easily acquiring the cucumber lime gatorade you love so much, a payday bar and baked hot cheetos. she pays at the front where her deli order waits and rushes home to you.

she checks her phone on the way only to find it with four missed calls from you. the worst comes to mind and she’s home within two minutes.

she finds you on the couch looking small, her heart drops when she spots the tears that stain your cheeks. ‘i thought you were upset after i told you i wanted space.’ you mumble out. natasha sighs and sets the stuff down. she takes careful steps towards you, afraid you might disappear if she does anything too quickly.

‘no..’ she grasps your cheeks, her thumb brushing along your cheekbones. ‘i just wanted to make you feel better.’ she kisses your forehead. ‘it wasn’t anything to do with me being upset.’

you look down almost in shame. you hate being so sensitive, it makes you worry even more and you feel like an even bigger bother when things like this happen. your mind gets way ahead of your heart and you let things bother you that you know shouldn’t.

natasha notices the wheels turning in your brain. she recognizes the mental battle you’re having with yourself. your shoulders slump a little, she knows you’re tired. you’re biting your lips to keep from saying anything.

‘hey..’ natasha whispers. her heart clenches a little. it’s such a silly thing, all this. the normal you wouldn’t have let anything get this far. she laughs a little at the fact. screw periods.

‘why are you laughing?’ you’re confused and your girlfriend is laughing at you. it makes her laugh a little more and you grow a little impatient.

natasha pulls you in closer. her arms enclose around your waist and her chin rests on your shoulder. ‘i love you, okay?’ she whispers it in your ear.

she hugs you tighter.

‘whatever you’re thinking right now is only half true.’ she tells you. you’re just as confused as ever and you’re about to ask her what she means but then she’s pulling away and grasping your cheeks in her hands.

‘i want to be inconvenienced by you.’ the look in her eyes is as soft as ever. her lips have a slight tremble to them. ‘please bother me, like all the time.’

‘you are the very notion of my existence. i want everything that i do to be for you.’ she says it with that raspy tone in her voice, you know she means everything she’s telling you.

you are putty in her hands at this point, she went out and ordered your favorite comfort meal in the pouring rain…after you told her not to. because she knows you. the intimacy of it all, she knows you and she chooses to stay after the stupid things that come out of being with you.

she notices the slight furrow of your eyebrows, you’re processing what she’s just told you. you never say anything, instead you pull her in and bury your nose into her shoulder. natasha hears your inhale and she holds you even tighter.

she smells like home. like the candle you love to leave on all day, the fabric softener you use to wash her clothes, that perfume you complimented her on your first date.

a silent understanding settles between you both.

you feel the absolute removal of any walls when around each other. you have seen sides of natasha not even her own best friend has seen, or her sister.

she makes the corniest jokes, you always laugh, sometimes snort and that makes you laugh even harder. when you’re having dinner it’s silent. but it’s a good silence. the silence is comfortable and she’s holding your hand while the other is holding her spoon and when either of you talk, it’s listening and you feel like the most heard person in the world.

it all feels so perfectly warm in the bubble you’ve created together. you feel so seperate from the rest of the world in the best ways possible. in the they don’t know us like we know us kind of way.

you pull away to look at her. your heart is cradled in her hands.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #marvel

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star-going-supernova · 10 months ago

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People have powers connected to their natural talents. Gregory is a natural born hacker; his power allows him to physically enter any kind of machine, no matter how simple or complicated and control them however he wishes. He can even change the programming/coding however he wants. He’s taken odd jobs to clean viruses from computers and fix faulty programming in faulty machines. The night he gets stuck in the Mega Pizzaplex, he knows exactly what to do.

This is the final tumblr generated prompt from the last round, number 66, and the prompt is from Hydrangea_Cherry9 on ao3! So, admittedly, this is probably the most I’ve diverged from a prompt so far because the tech stuff feels like it would fit better with Cassie, and I kinda had a different idea for Gregory. So basically, AU where everyone has one specific magic-esque power that they get as kids. I also took a bit of inspiration from that one post about little everyday magics.

Child of Chaos

To the bewilderment of his parents, Gregory didn’t seem to have a magic ability. They usually started coming in when a child was five years old, so when he went unchanged, his parents assumed he’d be a late bloomer. By the time he was eight, and far past “late,” they assumed he had a weak or subtle power. Because surely it was impossible for someone to just not have one.

Gregory himself never seemed upset with his abject normality. Not when his dad used his ability—his cooking was always perfect—or his mom used hers—she could predict the weather down to the minute and degree—or his classmates all started showing theirs off in school.

Like his best friend Cassie, who could slip her mind into whatever electronic device she was touching. Or Hunter, who had an internal clock and timer and stopwatch and alarm. And Lucy knew someone’s mood just from looking them in the eyes, and nothing Barry dropped, no matter how delicate, ever broke.

Gregory never complained or made faces or got frustrated with his friends. He shrugged when people asked about his magic, or lack thereof. He claimed to be totally unbothered by whatever obscure power he had that he’d yet to discover.

What no one noticed was the glint in his eyes, the twitch of his secret smile. They didn’t recognize his apparent indifference as a mask or his non-answers as lies. He never teased or hinted at the truth, never countered the mocking remarks, never sought to prove them wrong. Because that would give it away.

It would have made sense, had anyone figured it out, that he held his silence so strictly. That he kept his chaos a secret.

When things went wrong, or even just not as expected—that was Gregory’s doing. His little bit of magic. It could be big or small; he was equally capable of making the entire school lose electricity as he was at making any small object go missing at an inconvenient time.

It was a remarkable power to have in a day and age where most people’s magic affected only themselves or a very small area around them. But Gregory, at eight, decided he’d wanted a snow day instead of a test on Friday, and the skies had dumped four and a half feet of snow in a twenty mile radius around his house overnight.

So of course his magic was his best kept secret. It wouldn’t do for people to be suspicious of him for every little thing that happened. He’d lose all his fun if adults knew the sort of chaos he caused that couldn’t be traced back to him, so long as his magic was unknown.

And so it was that, standing in the pizzaplex, knowing there were animatronics hunting him down and a crazy killer out for his blood, Gregory grinned. His philosophy was that if anyone tried to ruin his day, he’d make theirs so much worse.

Roxy couldn’t stop tripping over her own feet; Monty kept leaping headfirst into arcade machines and photo booths and walls; doors closed in Chica’s face without fail. The STAFF bots bumped into each other, potted plants, and during one memorable moment, caused a massive pileup in the theater hallways that entirely blocked the killer bunny lady from reaching him.

Gregory had never had so many opportunities to cause chaos, and he was living for it.

Moon got tangled in his wires, the elevators stopped working for anyone but Gregory, and Sun found himself locked in a closet. The DJ got stuck trying to climb out of his massive passageways, and he was left to watch Gregory cheerfully saunter from the arcade’s back room.

But nothing was funnier than what his chaos did to his wannabe murderer. Chica ran into the bunny lady and sent them both tumbling down the long staircase in the lobby. Roxy accidentally bit her arm. Monty’s sharp nails snagged in her suit and shredded the front of it. The suit head got twisted and stuck, effectively blinding her. Moon mistook her for Gregory and tackled her. The blade of her knife fell off the handle. The lost and found door got jammed, locking her out as Gregory leisurely escaped via vent.

Cackling after the latest mishap—she face-planted after a hapless wet floor sign bot trundled into her path—Gregory gleefully returned to Freddy. Even his kindly protector was chuckling. The killer lady, who had to have been pretty fed up with her rotten luck tonight, had yet to get up off the ground and now had a circle of concerned wet floor sign bots gathered around her.

“It seems everyone is suffering from bad luck tonight,” Freddy commented as they left the atrium. “I have never seen my friends be so clumsy.”

Gregory snickered, relaxed as ever in Freddy’s chest cavity. “Yeah, it’s like they’ve been cursed.”

Freddy chuckled. “And thank goodness we have been spared,” he said, in a knowing sort of way.

Gregory sat up a bit and blinked in surprise—no one had ever figured him out before, but then again, he’d never dealt out chaos quite like this before either. “I—”

“Your secret is safe with me, superstar,” Freddy gently interrupted him.

After a moment of thought, Gregory slumped again with a rueful smile. He supposed he’d known he wouldn’t be able to hide his magic forever, and he couldn’t think of a better person to be the first to know. Cassie would probably be the second, honestly.

“You’re not freaked out?” he asked. It wasn’t something he liked to admit to himself, that he was a little bit scared of potential reactions. He didn’t want to be blamed for every little thing, even inconveniences that he genuinely hadn’t caused, or for people to walk on eggshells around him, fearful of retribution.

“Not at all.” The hatch opened, and Gregory didn’t resist when Freddy gently pulled him out and into his arms. “I do not believe you are the type of person to use such an ability to intentionally cause harm. And if I am being honest…”

He paused as Roxy burst out of a door up ahead, only for her eyes to go dark with sudden blindness. She stumbled around, waving her arms in front of her.

“They do deserve to be ‘cursed’ in this case,” Freddy finished, not without humor.

Gregory laughed, and on cue, as Roxy whirled to face them, her legs locked up and she toppled over with a screech.

#fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #star's stories #life and times of star

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viceconnor21 · 5 months ago

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Darling Dozy Aka Jimmy “Solidarity”

Personality traits (short version): - Pegasus - Sheriff of Hermit Town - Lives on a ranch just outside of town - Accident prone - Prevents bad luck for others but it comes back on him. - Such as tripping over stones, getting a cold, falling down the stairs, unfriendly animals, - Bad luck results in many cuts, bruises, and minor inconveniences - Talent in forewarning danger (only work for others) - Gets hurt a lot keeping people safe (feels like it is worth it) - Nicknamed “The Canary” - Many people think his talent is a curse - Crush on Frost Ember (a kirin) - Views Tripwire as trouble but also as a little brother figure - Hard Working to a fault - Just wants to keep everyone safe, peaceful and happy - The town’s early alarm system for big and little troubles - Will play off injuries like they’re no big deal (They are a big deal) - He is the sheriff and you will respect him - Pinkie pie-like with a kind of Pinkie sense

Background: It was a little after midday with the sun high in the sky. It had been a rough morning for Darling Dozy. First, he had to chase some feral cats out of his chicken pen, tripping over the mud rake in the process. Then the moment he got into town he was asked to help dig a garden out for the upcoming planting season. This wouldn’t have been a problem, he was happy to help. He was the sheriff after all, but in the middle of doing so, he dug directly into a nest of burrowing hornets. Very angry hornets. After that, he was lucky enough to save Fizz from a falling flower pot only for it to land on him instead. Darling thought of the day's events as he trotted down the shady path towards his favorite cafe. He was grateful for the cool spring breeze as he was already tired, filthy, and sore and he hadn’t even eaten lunch yet. He thought about heading home early today, but he was the sheriff, and he had a duty to his town. Of course, technically, he didn’t really live in the small town of Hermit. He had his own little ranch just outside of the city limits. In all honesty, he also kind of appointed himself sheriff and everyone just went along with it.

Dozy shrugged. He was lost in thought as he idly walked the path. There was no doubt his talent was useful, at least when he was around others. Frustratingly it only seems to work around people who weren’t him. The creatures of town called the pegasus, “The Canary”. A nickname that Darling Dozy had come to accept begrudgingly. The name had not only come from the striking yellow of his wings but also his talent for sensing danger, usually at a cost to himself. The Canary has bad luck but that was okay because for every hit Dozy took it meant one of his friends didn’t have to. Or maybe it was the other way around. For every small problem or large disaster he helped to forewarn and in turn help others avoid, that bad luck just seemed to come back on him. But it was okay, because it was only in small ways. Things like a pinch wing, stubbed hoof, sprain elbow, or even a leaky roof. Those small injuries or minor inconveniences meant nothing to him if it meant his friends were safe. Even the times he had ended up in the hospital for a few days were worth it. Many creatures called his talent a curse, but really, Darling saw it as a blessing. Besides, any good sheriff worth his salt would do the same.

Darling was snapped out of his rambling thoughts from a sudden collision with the red and gold kirin called Frost Ember. Dozy was knocked to the ground and his face was suddenly burning from ear to ear and it wasn’t due to Ember’s flaming mane. “Dear Void! I am so sorry!”, spluttered Dozy trying to hide his cheeks. “No worries”, laughed the flaming Kirin. “That was totally my fault. I was lost in thought.” “Me too,” smiled Darling Dozy as the Kirin helped to hall him to his hooves. Darling Dozy didn’t say anything as Frost Ember smiled kindly and continued on his way down the opposite path. “I will catch you later, Rancher.” Frost called behind him.

Dozy kicked the dirt. Why couldn’t he just be normal around him? Talk like a normal creature. No. He gets too fixated on those deep ruby eyes. And what was with that nickname? Another name from Tripwire he guessed. Tripwire was always giving him odd nicknames. Dozy didn’t think he had ever heard that bird-brain called him by the correct name. Dozy was sure that Tripwire did in fact know his name but just chose to annoy him by any means possible. Ever since that trouble making hippogriff moved to town there was an unplanned explosion at least once a week. They were lucky nobody had been seriously injured yet or, Void-forbid, been killed.

Despite the increase in his Tripwire induced migraines, Darling Dozy has started to care deeply for the glorified parakeet. They had a good relationship despite Tripwire’s everlasting mission to make Dozy lose all his feathers from stress. He quickly moved from just a chaos loving hooligan to Dozy’s chaos loving hooligan friend. And if Darling Dozy was being honest with himself, Dozy was starting to view Tripwire as a younger brother of sorts. He could only hope that Tripwire felt the same.

Speaking of the mischievous feather head, Dozy suddenly felt a pull in his chest, a twitch of his tail, and two flicks of his left ear. That only happened when Tripwire was about to press a button he definitely shouldn’t. As fast as Dozy’s hooves could carry him he followed the pull directly towards Crimson Dust’s workshop. Just as the workshop came into view a deafening boom shook Dozy and the trees surrounding the shop. Dozy’s heart sank as he tried to recombobulate his hoofs so he could close the distance between him and the explosion. Fortunately, suddenly a laughing Terraform and a coughing Tripwire stumbled out of the shop, followed by a plume of smoke. Tripwire was covering wings to hooves in something that looked like pink frosting. The smiles on his friends' faces told him that nobody was hurt. Darling Dozy stopped, took a deep breath and shook his head. Then his stomach growled. It was getting late for lunch. After the morning he’s had he deserved that refreshing strawberry smoothie and his favorite daisy sandwich. And with that thought, Darling Dozy spread his wings and headed towards his preferred eatery.

#mcyt fanart #my little pony #minecraft au #mcyt #minecraft #character design #trafficshipping #empires smp #empires fanart #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #solidarity gaming #traffic series #life series #canary curse

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not-poignant · 4 months ago

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Hi Pia!

In response to your recent post, I have carpal tunnel and stretching actually does not help. I do try to rest my wrists and fingers a lot, but do you have any other tactics you’ve used that have worked for you? Not looking for anything to follow as proper medical advice, just curious for new ideas to try out!

Take this with a grain of salt (not a doctor, as we all know! Just someone who writes a lot and has chronic RSIs in both wrists) but the type of rest you do is really important.

For example, wrist splinting can be really helpful, but only in specific ways.

Soft splints are best during the day, but both hard and soft wrist splints can make the pain worse if you're someone who unconsciously compresses the nerve further by bending your wrist into the splint throughout the day. If you can train yourself to stop doing this, soft wrist splints during the day - esp during rest periods - can help a lot.

Hard splints overnight can be amazing, but only if you don't contort your wrists while you sleep. This one is tough. I am a chronic wrist bender at night, and have literally woken up with my hands completely numb because of it. So hard splints are out of the question for me. It's been suggested to me to wear them for the first hour of lying down because I don't fall asleep straight away, to give my wrist a solid chunk of time of pure rest and then take it off before sleeping. 30 minutes of hard splinting where you can stop yourself from bending into the hard part is better than 30 minutes without it. Ditto a soft splint.

Carpal tunnel can be brutal, don't rule out seeing a physiotherapist or physical therapist who specialises in hand issues, or an occupational therapist who does the same. And my grandma had surgery for her carpal tunnel (twice!) and doesn't regret it. I also believe cortisone injections can be helpful, but come with the downside that they're more likely to increase pain in the long-term due to how steroids act on tissues overall. So cortisone should be used cautiously imho. (As in, it's not a long-term solution. It doesn't cure anything. And it can actually make some things worse).

I personally found hot and cold soaks pretty helpful. I have some arthritis in my hands so this is part of it. Ymmv on this one. Cold soaks reduce inflammation, hot soaks increase blood flow. Both can help with nerve impingement and joint pain. There will be guidelines online as to the best way / how long to do these.

Keeping a log of the pain specifically in your wrist / thumb, or the discomfort or numbness. Rating it on a level, and writing down everything you did in the hours leading up to bad flares. For me, learning that cross-stitch was actually the worst thing I did for my ulnar nerve entrapment was the thing that has helped most in knowing what I need to stop doing immediately when symptoms flare. I thought it was my writing, and I was wrong. My writing set up is actually pretty comfortable for my hands (see below), but once the cross-stitch caused a flare, writing perpetuated it and I'd mistakenly think the writing was the problem because I do that every day. You might be surprised which things can cause your worst flares. (Or not!)

Rest is rest. This one is hard. When it's our hands, we use them for literally everything. Often when we 'rest our wrists' it means stopping doing the things we know are direct triggers, but nothing else. But it actually means near complete rest from cooking, preparing food, petting our animal companions, holding our phone or tablet in bed or at a table, etc. This is where soft splints come in handy, they show us just how much we're using our wrists by how inconvenient they are to wear re: daily operation. As a teaching device we see quickly 'oh shit I twist my wrist badly for brushing my hair, oh shit I contort it for petting my dog behind the ears, oh shit, I've been stirring this pot at a weird angle for 10 minutes.'

Imho I don't wear splints for showering / bathroom / food. But will put it on during complete rest (which I reserve for pain + numbness flares). I will give myself about 2 days of that, and I try to treat it as seriously as a virus or flu because I don't want surgery! And obviously surgery for nerve and hand issues runs in the family.

Look into the ergonomics of the things that cause you flares. Often carpal tunnel can be exacerbated by how you hold your shoulders and elbows when you're doing the the things that cause flares. Look at whether the size of your mouse is too big for your hand (most are), look into how your wrists rest when you type on a keyboard, all of these things when adjusted for can make a big positive cumulative difference.

Getting a small Roccat Kone mouse, while expensive comparatively, stopped some of the issues in my right thumb. Because finally I had a mouse that fit my hand. (Most computer mice are designed for AMAB hands, as a result most AFAB people who use them basically long-term hurting their hands without realising - the heel of your palm should be able to rest on the mouse pad, your index and middle fingers should comfortably always be able to reach the left and right clickers without ever stretching and the thumb should rest naturally in the thumb rest if there is one. Most mice don't let the heel of the hand rest on the mouse pad without stretching for most AFAB people).

If you're using a laptop keyboard, stop as soon as you can and find a keyboard (ideally mechanical switch) that isn't high impact on your fingertips and use that. There are a lot of good, cheap bluetooth options these days. I cannot stress enough how bad laptop keyboards are for fingers and nerve issues in the hands. I type millions of words on my keyboard, I have callouses on all of my fingertips because of it. Trust me when I say you want something that will encourage your fingertips not to slam into the baseboard.

Don't get me started on if you do most of your writing on your phone. x.x The cramped positions we have to put our fingers in to both hold our phone and type is - to say the least - something younger folks get away with and older folks pay for. It's not healthy for our hands. Or wrists. Or elbows. Or shoulders. There's very few ways to make this healthy. Phones are just literally not designed to have a comfortable typing process re: cramping fingers and palms and wrists. They're designed for convenience, not carpal tunnel.

Be extremely wary of nerve flossing exercises that aren't designed for your specific issues. A lot of the Tiktok type ones are 'stretching in disguise' and can make pain worse. There's often no harm in trying them, but if the pain doesn't go away after a few days and/or gets worse, stop. I personally cultivated a curiosity atttiude. 'I'll try that for a few days and see.'

As always, professionals know more about this stuff! But make sure you're seeing hand specialists, otherwise you're likely to get more outdated information.

#asks and answers #personal #this is not a medical advice blog #but i've had guyon's canal and ulnar nerve entrapment for about 20 years #i tried some of the nerve flossing stuff #it personally made my issues worse #but those exercise were just 'stretches in disguise'#they do help some folks #but i do think systemic changes around how you use your wrists and fingers #will create more lasting change imho #based off personal experience

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